Hunted Tribes
by Hotpoint
Summary: Battlestar/Battletech Crossover: The 12 Tribes of Kobol meet another tribe fleeing tyranny and genocide. Never hunt a wolverine, if you're unlucky you might catch it...
1. Prologue

_I own neither __franchise__ and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

_This is a crossover between __Battlestar __Galactica__ and__ the __Battletech__ Universe__ and offers a vision of what would have happened if the surviving colonials had run into another very different tribe who wer__e themselves__ fleeing tyranny and genocide__ and who thought a hidden planet in a nebula thousands of light years from Earth was a good place to lay low._

* * *

_"In the halls of the Clans of Kerensky they seek to rob us of our identity by calling us the "Not Named" but we are known by many names. To the Inner Sphere we are the Minnesota Tribe, mysterious strangers who walked among them a while never to be seen again. To the Colonials we are the Thirteenth, lost brothers and sisters, the saviors of their race. To the Cylons we are known as the Earthers, a testing sent by God as a punishment for their hubris. We are perhaps all of this and more, we are the people of New Circe, we are the 331st Division of the SLDF, we are the Star-League-In-Exile, we are both the Hunted and Hunter and we are, above all and forever, Clan Wolverine!"_

**Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the Star-League-In-Exile: 3047**

* * *

******Colonial Raptor - Nebula - Deep Space**

As soon as the indescribably strange sensation of jumping faded Lieutenant Margaret Edmondson, almost invariably referred to by her call-sign of "Racetrack", looked out of the cockpit. 'This doesn't look right' she stated, inwardly groaning. One jump, they were _one_jump into the series of ten that would take them all the way back to Caprica and it already looked wrong she thought. It was probably that Cylon bitch feeding them false navigation coordinates she decided.

Her electronic Countermeasures Officer Hamish "Skulls" McCall couldn't help but agree, he also knew something she didn't. 'No other contacts on DRADIS' he announced.

'What?' the pilot exclaimed.

'Oh, man. We're at the wrong jump coordinates' the ECO said, checking his instruments. Starbuck was going to kill both of them if the Cylons didn't kill her first back on Caprica.

Racetrack slumped in her seat. 'So what happened?' she asked eventually, listening for a few moments as Skulls played with all the fancy electronic gear. She was qualified for the ECO job herself and knew exactly what he was doing and how long it would take. The two marines in the back leaned forward and stuck their heads through into the cockpit looking less than impressed by the turn of events even if they had the sense not to express their feelings out loud. They had volunteered to go back to the colonies and help bring back any survivors that could be easily found and now they were stuck in the ass-end of nowhere instead.

'I think there was some kind of glitch in the navcom firmware' Skulls theorised based on the displays. 'Hey bottom line, we're to hell and gone from where we're supposed to be, skipper' he told his pilot.

Racetrack blinked. 'Okay, um, any chance that we can still catch up with them?' she asked hopefully.

Skulls inwardly shrugged. 'Not a chance' he replied. 'Mission rules say we head back' he reminded her.

'Frak me! It was the first jump' Racetrack complained, as much to the universe in general as towards her ECO.

'Hey, look, you gave me these coordinates' Skulls responded defensively. He only punched them in to the jumpdrive and had no intention of taking more than his fair share of any blame.

Racetrack sighed. 'Back to the barn' she said resignedly. On the plus side at least they wouldn't be going five days without a shower like the others presumably still with Starbuck would. It was a long way back to Caprica for a Raptor, even with the Cylon calculating the series of unusually long jumps for them.

'Hey, I am picking up a large planetary body out here and it's frakkin' close' Skulls announced, checking the DRADIS again.

'Where'd that come from?' Racetrack asked in surprise, you didn't suddenly "notice" nearby planets, they were usually pretty self-evident right from he start.

'Hell if I know. So much DRADIS interference here, it didn't even register at first' the Electronic Control Officer explained. The nebula they seemed to have accidentally jumped into was playing merry hades with the equipment, the displays almost seemed scrambled.

Racetrack checked the sensors herself. 'Check this out' she said. 'Atmosphere is nitrogen/oxygen. Organic molecular spectra. Fresh water? Hey, you know what this is? It's habitable! We may have just found a world that can support human life. Maybe we're not just a bunch of frak-ups after all' she said optimistically, or if they were they were _lucky_frak-ups which was just as good in her book, the corners cut off like they should be of course.

Skulls blinked and started checking his electronic warfare gear. 'Skipper' he said nervously, 'I think we just got scanned and it wasn't any kind of DRADIS signal I'm familiar with' he said. 'Frequency is all wrong and so is...' he began then stopped when he noticed something else. 'We're receiving a transmission but not on a colonial military or civilian channel' he told her.

'Frak me sideways' Racetrack exclaimed. 'Cylons' she quickly decided under the circumstances. Guess they were unlucky frak-up's instead. 'It could be a virus carrier signal' she suggested. 'Let's just get the frak out of here. We'll do a series of jumps to shake them before returning to the fleet' she said, getting ready to leave in a hurry.

Skulls listened to the transmission. 'It's audio only Skipper' he said, 'and I think it's a language but I don't understand a word' he continued. 'Whoever it is they're starting to sound agitated we're not replying' he said. 'Lords of Kobol!' he suddenly cried out. 'We just got painted by enough wattage to light up Caprica City!' he exclaimed. 'We're being targeted boss.'

Racetrack looked at her own DRADIS display and felt her jaw drop. 'Something in high orbit around that planet just entered line-of-sight' she said. 'And I think it's pissed' she added with a grimace.

'Basestar?' Skulls queried, still trying to find a way to interfere with the apparent weapons lock but getting nowhere fast. There was no way a raider, even a heavy one was putting out a fraction of that kind of power he knew.

'I don't think so' Racetrack said slowly, 'but _whatever_the frak it is I vote we run away' she opined.

'Good call' one of the marines wholeheartedly agreed.

'Do you want the good news or the bad news?' Skulls asked his pilot flatly.

'Just spill it' Racetrack replied fatalistically.

'We need to reboot the navcom before I can plot a jump and that takes longer than we've got' the ECO replied.

The pilot blinked. 'So what's the _good_news?' she asked.

'That _was_the good news' Skulls told her, 'the bad news is that I think we've got fighters heading our way hell for leather' he said. 'Maybe I should have said the bad news and the worse news?' he suggested apologetically.

'There's no way I'm being taken prisoner by the toasters' Racetrack stated with determination. 'We fight until we're out of missiles then ram the frakkers okay?' she checked with the others.

'Frakking A' the marine who had spoken before agreed, the other one nodding assent. Getting captured alive by the toaster bastards _wasn't_going to happen, if they had to they'd use their service-automatics on themselves first.

Skulls closed his eyes. 'I'm with you Skipper' he agreed eventually. 'Oh frak it' he said and switched the radio over to transmit on the same frequency they were being signalled on. 'The entire frakking Cylon race can kiss my colonial ass' he replied to the transmission. 'You can hunt us down until the Goddess Artemis herself would give up chasing and you'd _still_never catch us' he declared. 'We'll see you in hades' he added.

The increasingly frantic transmissions suddenly cut out and after a few minutes another voice came on speaking the worst dialect of Old Caprican either of the colonial officers had ever heard and with an appalling accent. '_Who are you and how did you get here?_' it asked haltingly. '_And why are you speaking bad Ancient Greek?_' it added suspiciously.

'Ancient what?' Racetrack asked nonplussed, looking at Skulls who shrugged his shoulders.

There seemed to be some conversation going on at the other end in the unknown language before the voice speaking Old Caprican spoke again. '_Are you from a lost Star League colony_?' it queried.

'What the frak is a "Star League"?' Skulls asked Racetrack rhetorically. 'We're Colonials' he signalled back.

More conversation on the other end was eventually broken by. '_Follow the..._' the voice began then stopped, '_metal bird_' it said eventually '_into dock_.'

'Metal bird?' Racetrack repeated to Skulls with a quizzical look.

'Doesn't know the word for fighter?' Skulls suggested. 'Their Caprican _is_ garbage' he noted. 'Where are _you_from?' he transmitted back. If this was a Cylon trick it was sure as hades an interesting one he decided.

'_Family... first... from Taurian Concordat_' the voice replied in its halting, uncertain vernacular.

'Taurian... shit maybe they're a lost colony who set out from Tauron?' Racetrack theorised. 'Where is this "Taurian Concordat" located?' she signalled back, getting into the conversation.

'_Four hundred and fifty light years rim... direction of Terra_' the voice replied after a few seconds. '_I mean..._' the man continued, evidently trying to think of whatever "Terra" translated to from his own language into this weird Old Caprican dialect he was speaking, '_... Earth_' he said eventually.

Skulls simply looked stunned, for her part his pilot whooped then started to dance as best she could in her seat. 'Better to be lucky than good' she began to chant over and over again as the DRADIS told them company was approaching fast.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The point of diversion from nBSG is Episode 2:19 Lay Down Your Burdens (Part I) in this universe New Caprica was already populated when the colonials found it by accident. You can find links to the Battlestar Galactica and Battletech Wikis on my profile page but I do recommend reading this story on Twisting the Hellmouth (also linked on my profile) as the author's notes there have hyperlinked references._


	2. Chapter 1

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

_"I'm not sure who was more surprised when we first ran into each other, us or the Wolvies, either way we both had to adjust fast because the frakking Cylons were still out there. I will say that it was probably the Toasters who ended up getting the biggest shock of all when we reversed roles and took the fight back to them, they never saw that one coming."_

**Captain Margaret "Racetrack" Edmundson: 3048**

* * *

**City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE**

Jennifer Vaun finished reading the summary report and initially lost for words looked past the serious looking military officer sat on the other side of her desk to the painting hanging on the far wall of her office. Sarah McEvedy herself looked down on everyone that ever sat in this chair, often inspiring, frequently intimidating but always there, reminding you of who you are, where you come from and above all the duty you owe to those you lead. 'Jump drive that functions within a gravity well?' she asked eventually. 'Jump drive that can cycle in less than an hour?' she added doubtfully.

'And artificial gravity' Admiral Franks noted. 'No I didn't believe it either but apparently so' he continued, shuffling uncomfortably in his own chair, not so much because of the eyes of the former Khan looking down upon them from the wall but rather because he hated his full dress uniform. 'It's bewildering though' he continued with a perplexed expression, 'their sensors are like something from a thousand years ago and the less said about their computers the better' he told her, 'but as you say their jump drive is far more advanced than ours' he said. 'We know they _did_ jump in, and where, because their arrival tripped off our warning grid, meaning it can't be completely different in principle to a Kearny-Fuchida drive, but you can fit the unit into a ship the size of a heavy fighter and the power requirements are relatively minimal compared to our own technology' he told her. 'Looking at the ship... well like one of our engineers said after looking it over it's like something from the 21st Century added to something from the 41st.'

Vaun put her hands down in front of her on the desk meshing the fingers. 'And this DNA screening has been double checked?' she queried, looking to the summary again before her eyes caught the movement of a small bird outside the large panoramic window of her office distracting her for a brief moment.

Franks shook his head. '_Quadruple_ checked and by different teams and equipment' he replied. 'No sign of any genetic manipulation but according to their mitochondrial DNA their ancestors and ours haven't interbred for a _very_ long time' he said.

'Centuries?' Vaun asked, 'are they from a lost colony like Neuva Castille, query affirmative?'

'Negative' Admiral Franks replied. 'More like millennia' he told her with a definite grimace, 'best guess, according to our gengeneering teams, is that their ancestors haven't done the dirty with anyone who has come from Terra in the last four to five thousand years.'

Vaun blinked and her jaw dropped before she could control her reaction. 'Four to five thousand years?' she repeated. 'I can see a big problem with that' she stated.

The Admiral shrugged. 'The fact that we've only had interstellar travel for less than _one_ thousand is proving hard to reconcile with the genetic evidence' he agreed. 'And then there's the language' he continued. 'They speak a kind of bastardised Ancient Greek which according to the history department at the university seems to be most like what they were talking around about the time of the Trojan wars' he said rubbing his chin. 'Those were roughly Fourteen-Hundred years BCE' he informed her, 'I checked.'

'I hope you're not trying to tell me they're the descendents of Bronze Age Ancient Greeks with stardrives, query negative?' Vaun asked seriously, narrowing her eyes.

'Affirmative' the Franks replied reluctantly. 'I wish I wasn't but they actually worship the Hellenistic Gods too' he explained. 'They call them the "Lords of Kobol" but the names of specific deities are Apollo and the like' he said. 'One of my more imaginative, or perhaps I should say fantastical Intelligence Officers is pushing the theory that Atlantis really existed and was even more advanced than Plato made out' he told her, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

'Well what do _they_ say?' Vaun asked.

'They say they're originally from a planet called Kobol and left to colonise twelve planets, which are named after the signs of the zodiac, a couple of thousand years ago and that both their jump drive and artificial gravity technology was originally a gift to them from their "God's" which they only learned to use in the last couple of centuries' Franks replied. 'They haven't specified if they came in a blessed with a holy ribbon around it though' he added in amusement.

'So Kobol is their name for Terra?' Vaun queried.

'No, they think _our_ ancestors came to Terra from Kobol too and they call us the lost thirteenth colony' the Admiral replied. 'When we told them that humanity was originally from Terra, which means they were too, they just laughed and said we needed better history books' he said. 'We could have proved it but decided to let that one slide for now.'

Vaun stood up pushed back her chair and began pacing around her office. 'Why wasn't I informed of all this immediately?' she wanted to know.

'I'm sorry Ma'am but we wanted to check the facts before presenting the case' Franks answered. 'They clearly weren't from the Clans, or ComStar, or anyone else we ever expected to possibly meet way out here so there were no standing orders on how to deal with the situation' he explained honestly. 'I've got to admit the entire story sounds so ludicrous that it took this long to verify it to anyone's satisfaction' he told her apologetically. 'This brings us to the next point which was on your summary' he said. 'These "Colonials" as they call themselves are supposedly from a fleet of refugees who are out here looking for Terra because their homeworlds have been destroyed and they're trying to find a new place to live' he told her.

'Destroyed by who?' Vaun asked. 'Ancient Egyptians?' she suggested sardonically.

Admiral Franks tried to deliver the reply seriously. 'Artificially Intelligent robots, some of whom look exactly like humans and are self-aware' he told her.

'So not hostile _aliens_ then?' Vaun responded deadpan before breaking out into laughter, nearly setting off the Admiral too.

'They say they can prove it if we contact their fleet' Franks informed her. 'Look at it this way, they're on their way towards the Inner Sphere with a jump drive that would revolutionise our entire civilisation' he said. 'Can you imagine our edge if we had that technology?' he asked rhetorically. 'Can you imagine the slaughter if it fell into the hands of those Successor State thugs or...' he paused, 'the Clans instead?'

Vaun frowned. 'Do we have an idea of these people's military capabilities Admiral?' she asked, retaking her seat.

'No Ma'am but our fighters impressed the hell out of our two guests' the Naval Officer responded. 'If you want my suggestion, they're refugees and apparently in poor condition, we don't need to rattle any sabres, our visitors have already rattled a begging bowl so we simply play the friendly benefactor.'

'How many of them are there?' Vaun queried.

'Just under fifty thousand we're told, supposedly they're all that's left of an original combined population of over twenty billion between the colonies' Admiral Franks replied. 'The AI's they've supposedly been running from nuked them back into the stone age' he stated flatly. 'If that's true, and I _will_ want to see the evidence, then that's another reason to prevent these people reaching the Inner Sphere. These jump-drives could enable an enemy to appear directly over a planet and bombard it from orbit before any military could react so we don't want these "Cylon" robots as they call them being led directly towards untold billions of civilians.'

'Sounds like we can forget about the Ares Conventions' Vaun said quietly. Despite every major power in the Inner Sphere keeping a stockpile of nuclear weaponry they were very rarely ever used and if anyone ever did utilise their atomic arsenals they would be immediately branded pariahs.

The Admiral nodded. 'With your permission I'd like to ready our tactical and strategic nuclear deterrents, as well as mobilise the reserves' he told her. 'On my own authority I've already ordered both the_Zughoffer Weir_ and the _Bismark_ to begin charging their jumpdrives immediately. They were offline for maintenance but we don't want to get caught with our pants down, query affirmative?'

'Affirmative Admiral' Vaun replied. 'I'll call an emergency meeting of the Parliament and explain the situation. Can I rely on you to handle contact with these people?' she asked. 'Make a good impression, we might live out here in the wilderness but we're not barbarians and remember we were hunted refugees once ourselves' she reminded him, looking up at the picture on the far wall of her office again. That was why they had hidden themselves on a planet in a nebula out in the back of beyond all those years ago, they had needed to rebuild, rearm and make ready for the day they would be called upon to take up the sword once again and fight for an ideal only they still embraced.

Admiral Franks stood up and straightened his uniform. 'None of us will ever forget Ma'am' he said, looking at the two flags hanging behind her, one with a star emblazoned on it, the other an animals head imposed on stylised claw marks . 'God preserve the Star League in Exile' he intoned.

'Wolverines keep the faith' Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the last remains of the Star League, responded automatically.

'Seyla' they said together, heads bowed.

* * *

**Colonial One - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

Tory Foster took a breath to steady her nerves and knocked on the cabin door. 'Madam President I know you said you didn't want to be disturbed but you really do' she announced.

After a few moments the door opened to reveal a very weary looking Laura Roslin. Despite being ahead in the polls the constant electioneering was sapping her reserves and she had hoped to get a few quiet hours to herself. 'What is it?' she asked her aide, noting the Colonial Officer stood next to her.

'We just received word from _Galactica_' Foster replied. 'One of the Raptors which was on the Caprica mission returned thirty minutes ago, it misjumped on the first leg of the journey and then eventually headed back to rejoin the fleet.'

Laura Roslin yawned. 'Why did they take a week to get back?' she asked, and more importantly why am I being disturbed she thought to herself.

The President's Aide collected herself for a moment. 'They took a week to get back because they found an inhabited planet' she told Roslin. 'Inhabited by people from the Thirteenth Tribe' she added, wondering if she had delivered the momentous news with quite the kind of gravitas it truly deserved.

'You're yanking my frakking chain right?' the incredulous President of the Colonies responded eventually after a suitably long thoughtful pause.

Foster shook her head. She had already ignored the request from Admiral Adama to keep this all Top Secret and the rumour would already be spreading around the fleet that President Roslin had led them to the Thirteenth Tribe of Kobol, Baltar's election hopes were buried now she decided happily, the President had led them to Earth even if luck had played a big part in it.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

Admiral Adama again looked through the glass window at the tall but otherwise nondescript pair of individuals currently sitting in the brig before turning back to the two officers stood next to him. 'And you're _certain_ they're not Cylons?' he asked.

Racetrack nodded, a huge grin plastered across her face. She was bound to go down in the history books as the pilot that found the Thirteenth Tribe and you just couldn't buy reputation like that. She'd likely never have to buy a drink for herself at the bar again either. 'They took us down to the planet in a type of shuttle they call a dropship' she told Adama. 'There's a whole city down there, hundreds of thousands of people, farms, factories, and they didn't all look like clones' she said. 'They're human alright' she said confidently.

'They stuck _us_ in a brig too' Skulls noted. 'Stuck us with needles as well, then asked us a bunch of questions and eventually we get to meet an Admiral in their Navy who tells us their government is offering the fleet sanctuary from the Cylons' he said.

'They cut us loose along with the marines, and sent these two along to prove we weren't making the whole thing up' Racetrack told Adama, continuing the story. 'The grey-haired guy is a historian that speaks the best Old Caprican they could find, the one in the uniform is from their Navy' he said.

Admiral Adama put his hands behind him going into a parade-rest stance. 'What military forces do they have?' he wanted to know.

'We saw fighters, and a small capital ship in orbit' Racetrack answered. 'They called it a destroyer, maybe six-hundred metres bow to stern' she told the Admiral.

'Armament?' Adama asked professionally.

'They didn't shoot at us so I don't know for certain but their technology seemed pretty primitive so I guess they aren't as well armed as we are' Racetrack reasoned. 'No artificial gravity on their ships and they were completely amazed by our jumpdrive' she continued, 'they've got one themselves but you can only mount it on a large ship and it can't operate in a gravity well' she said. 'You want my guess, they'll be hoping to trade for the design' she suggested. 'And they'll pay big.'

Adama looked at their visitors again. 'A colony of the Thirteenth Tribe' he observed with a grin he couldn't hold back. He wondered how many more colonies they had and how far away Earth itself was, were they only another couple of jumps away?

'Permission to speak freely Sir' Racetrack requested.

'Go ahead Lieutenant' Adama responded, the girl had bought herself plenty of leeway to say whatever the hell she wanted to whoever she wanted in his book.

'I never bought for certain that you were leading us towards Earth, or that it even really existed' Racetrack admitted. 'I'm sorry I doubted you' she apologised.

Adama smiled, better to be lucky than good he thought to himself. 'The president has asked for them to be brought to Colonial One' he said. 'Think you and your ECO can get us there? I'm sure she'll want to talk to you too so shine your boots, put on your dress uniforms and expect to get your photograph taken' he advised.

Skulls grinned. 'The last time we went anywhere we ended up in the wrong place Sir' he reminded the Admiral, earning a playful punch on the arm from his pilot.

'And you _will_ both be spending some quality time in a Raptor flight simulator for that' Adama replied. 'Just because the Gods are watching out for you doesn't mean I have to give you any leeway' he said. 'They might play favourites but I don't.'

'Yes Sir, understood Sir' Racetrack responded, snapping to attention as did Skulls. It was true enough, the Admiral would publicly ream out his own son if he frakked up, that was one of the reasons the Old Man enjoyed such respect amongst the troops. He was harsh, but he was fair.

'So what do they call themselves?' the Admiral asked curiously.

'The planet's name is New Circe' Racetrack replied. 'Yes it's named for the same Circe from our legends too.'

'The daughter of the Sun God Helios' Adama recalled quietly. 'So they have the same Gods we do?' he asked. Helios was associated with Apollo, his boy might get a kick out of this revelation he decided.

'They know of our Gods but from what we could tell they don't worship them Sir' Racetrack told him. 'They say our Gods and language are thousands of years old from a part of Earth called Greece, they also think that the human race came from Earth originally not Kobol' she added.

Adama nodded. 'They've been isolated thousands of years' he noted. 'We might need to be careful what we tell them, the truth might upset their society' he reasoned thoughtfully.

Looking out through the glass from inside the brig Commander Marcus Thorpe of the Star League Intelligence Corps tried to make himself comfortable while they waited. He had been chosen for this mission because he had taken Classical History at university and had maintained an interest in the subject, still speaking a smattering of Ancient Greek although he would have much preferred meeting long-lost Romans instead because his Latin was better. Professor Sundquist the professional academic beside him had in fact been one of his lecturers almost two decades earlier and was far less happy to be stuck in this room, he wanted to talk to as many of these people as possible, compare their histories with his own, and try to work out how in the name of the First Lord they had ended up thousands of light years from Earth thousands of years ago.

'I still think it's Atlantis' Thorpe stated, crossing his arms and turning back to the other man.

Sundquist snorted in response. 'Atlantis was merely a legend based upon the collapse of the Minoan Civilisation' he replied. 'You always were a fantasist young Marcus' he said with a sigh.

'They thought Troy was nothing but a myth too until Schliemann found it, query affirmative?' Thorpe pointed out.

'Affirmative' Sundquest conceded, 'but that was over a thousand years ago' he continued. 'If Atlantis existed somebody would have found it by now' he said with certainty.

Thorpe uncrossed his arms. 'At least I've _got_ a theory' he grumbled.

'No, you've got an unsubstantiated hypothesis' Sundquist told him. 'A proper theory is based upon facts it seeks to explain' he chided his former student. 'Your romanticised view of mythic history might have served you well in the military, where tales of exaggerated valour and appeals to ancient glory are the stock in trade, but in academia we aren't quite so... florid.'

'How _did_ you get through your time in the Army?' Thorpe asked, rolling his eyes. Like all citizens of New Circe the old professor would have spent two years in the military as soon as he turned eighteen and then undergone two solid weeks annual refresher training, and one weekend a month in the reserves until the age of forty.

'Like a good citizen, I stuck it out and tried to ignore the stupidity all around me' Sundquist replied. 'Why anyone would want to make it their career as a preferred choice is astonishing' he continued disparagingly. 'Our devotion of so much time and resources into the Armed Forces is a necessary evil to be thought of ruefully in a harsh universe, it should not be embraced so enthusiastically within our culture as it is' he opined.

'We sleep safe in our beds because rough men stand ready to visit violence on those that would do us harm' Thorpe responded.

'Please don't quote Orwell at me' the old professor requested. 'Our eternal mobilisation for war rings too much like Oceania as it is' he stated wryly.

It was Commander Thorpe's turn to snort this time. 'We're possibly the only real power in the Inner Sphere, the Periphery or beyond which can honesty claim to _not_ be using 1984 as a guide book instead of a warning' he retorted. 'Freedom of speech, elected government, no suppression of information...' he listed by rote, counting with his fingers.

Sundquist narrowed his eyes. 'And _that's_ why I stuck out all the time I found myself crawling through a muddy ditch with a rifle' he replied coldly. 'I see the imperfections in our society but we _are_ the pinnacle of civilisation in these dark times' he declared. 'That was clear from the day when the Wolverines landed on Richmond and liberated the camps the Draconis Combine had my ancestors in' he said. 'They did it because it was the right thing to do, they still genuinely believed in the principles of the Star League and would fight for them.'

Thorpe solemnly nodded his heartfelt agreement. Although he had plenty of blood in his own line from the Richmond camps, which was of course inevitable after over two hundred years of mixing between those people and the original Wolverines, his family codex showed he was primarily descended from those who had liberated the slaves and political dissidents and he was proud of that.

Over the years the cultures had merged, with the more militaristic Wolverines, descendents of warriors who had followed Star League General Aleksandr Kerensky into exile, then later fled the tyrannical machinations of his son Nicholas, gradually adopting some of the habits of the mainly Scandinavian descended Richmond prisoners. They in turn adopted many of the habits of the more numerous Wolverines such as speech patterns. This had led to a society which venerated the Armed Forces because of the Wolverines, education because of all the academics they found in the camps, freedom from tyranny because of the history of _both_ groups and also, so the old joke went, was abnormally fond of putting pickled herring in field ration packs.

'Just let me do most of the talking, your job is to translate not negotiate' Commander Thorpe told the academic as someone entered the brig to lead them to the flight bay.

'If you'd concentrated better in class you wouldn't need me to be here' Sundquist replied. 'And don't think I've forgotten you still owe me that essay on Pliny the Elder.'

'That was nearly twenty years ago' Thorpe protested, frankly astonished the old man remembered.

'And check the spelling before you hand in it' Sundquist told him sternly. He only hoped the boys handwriting had improved, it used to be atrocious.

* * *

**Colonial One - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

They had been met by marines when they arrived on _Galactica_ too but those weren't standing at attention as an honour guard. Thorpe imagined these particular troops were the equivalent of the ceremonial troops that stood by the gates of the Lord Protectors mansion and he wondered if they were remotely as tough as one of the infantry regiments of the 331st frankly doubting it.

Commander Thorpe snapped to attention when the marines brought their rifles up into salute and wished he was wearing his ceremonial sword so he could return it properly. It was impractical as hell on a spaceship but strange military traditions lingered on long after their original meaning was lost. The hand to brim of the hat salute itself was originally the tipping back of a visor and remained a military salutation long after knights of yore had gone the way of the dinosaurs.

A woman perhaps a few years older than Thorpe stood in front of what appeared to be a delegation. He surmised she was this President Roslin and noted her leader-like bearing, and also by her knee length skirt the fact she had a pretty nice set of legs.

The Colonial Admiral who had flown with them from the warship stepped forward between Thorpe and Roslin and began speaking, his words being translated by Sundquist. 'Madam President' he began, 'may I introduce Commander Marcus Thorpe' he said. 'Commander Thorpe, may I introduce Laura Roslin, President of the Twelve Colonies' he said formally, then waited for Sundquist to translate.

Thorpe saluted, his action met by a nod from Roslin's head. 'Madam President' he began. 'On behalf of Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the Star League, I offer the greetings of the colony of New Circe and the Star League In Exile' he replied. 'The Lord Protector offers an invitation for you to visit our colony and for your people to find respite from your journey on our world' he announced.

Sundquist translated, then apparently answered a question from the President. 'She asked if Jennifer was a woman's name for us too, and I told her it was' the professor told Thorpe. 'Their names are very curious, closer to ours than they should be given the separation of cultures' he added.

'There's definitely something weird about this whole thing' Thorpe agreed. 'Might I introduce Professor Nils Sundquist of the University of New Circe' he said to Roslin, 'Professor Sundquist is our leading Historian in Ancient Terra' he noted his companions credentials.

After the translation Roslin smiled at the academic turned translator who smiled back before asking a question which the woman answered. 'They shake hands at formal occasions like we do' Sundquist told Thorpe who smiled himself and took a step forward offering his hand to Roslin.

Amidst a sudden salvo of photography from the selected members of the colonial press who had been invited Laura Roslin shook hands with a descendent of the thirteenth Tribe of Kobol. The momentous event was slightly marred by a guilty thought that crossed her mind that Baltar's election hopes were now dead and buried. She could probably keep getting re-elected for life if she wanted, although that life might not be all that long.

'Aren't you glad you got that Higher Education now?' Sunquist quietly asked Thorpe in amusement.

'I thought it might advance my career long-term but I never thought like this' Thorpe replied. 'I might not get a ship but I'll certainly get that promotion to captain now' he said happily.

'Or they might kick you out of the Navy and make you a diplomat, query affirmative?' Sundquist suggested.

'Negative!' Thorpe exclaimed, 'And don't even joke about it' he said in horror.

Laura Roslin wondered what the Historian had said to make the naval officer suddenly grimace but decided not to ask, it could be a cultural thing.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045CE**

Sat in his laboratory Gaius Baltar stared into the distance, or rather his unfocused eyes were fixed on the far bulkhead as Tom Zarek tried to think of a plan and failed 'It's all over' the former dissident and rabble-rouser said eventually. 'You were already behind the polls but now the word's spreading that we've found the Thirteenth Tribe they won't just elect Roslin they'd make her frakking Empress if she asked for it.'

Baltar nodded slowly, his face expressionless. 'We should be happy I suppose' he said eventually. 'Everyone else will be.'

'Everyone else doesn't realise how dangerous Roslin is' Zarek replied. 'Our fates are in her hands, she's going to be our representative to the 13th Tribe, she'll steer policy towards them, hell our futures are now entirely at her whim' he hissed.

'He's right Gaius' the imaginary blond in the scientist-turned-politicians head agreed. 'And you might as well start practicing a gracious concession speech' she told him.

'What about the Cylons?' Baltar asked. 'We could run on a platform that we need to keep moving to escape them.'

Zarek sighed. 'After nine months stuck in ships the people wouldn't want to keep going even if we'd only found an empty planet we could live on' he said. 'Face it, that crazy religious fanatic teacher did what she said she would so we're frakked.'

'Unless the Cylons come' the blond said, walking past Baltar and stroking his cheek, at least in his imagination.

'Unless the Cylons come' Baltar repeated.

'And how does that make us any _less_ frakked?' Zarek asked sarcastically. 'I don't think the bitch should be in charge but I'd rather live than get nuked by a bunch of walking toasters' he said flatly.

'They're still following Gaius' the blond whispered in his ear. 'They might have lost the trail for now but they'll find you eventually.'

Baltar turned and looked at Zarek. 'People are still afraid' he said. 'We campaign on that fear, try to get the people to think they're only safe if we keep moving' he said. 'We could even say we're endangering the Thirteenth Tribe by contacting them' he continued. 'From what we know they're far behind us technologically, they don't even have artificial gravity on their ships' he pointed out. 'It's our duty to protect them by heading back away from their space.'

Zarek frowned. 'I can't see too many people responding to that but it's worth a try' he conceded. 'It's all we've got I suppose' he continued reluctantly. He wasn't even sure he fully agreed himself but the argument about protecting the humans they'd met at least sounded reasonable, they could work on that.

The blond smiled. 'There you go, raising your electoral hopes by trying to dash the fleets' she said. 'I knew there was a consummate selfish politician in there somewhere.'

'I wonder how many colonies the Thirteenth have?' Zarek asked rhetorically.

'Their jumpdrive is primitive from what I've heard' Baltar replied. 'No more than a handful I'd say.'

* * *

**Colonial One – Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

Laura Roslin blinked, she must have misheard. '_How_ many people?' she asked again, noting that the other guests, Colonial Military and the members of the Quorum of Twelve were equally nonplussed. Looking more than uncomfortable at their own presence amongst such important people Racetrack and Skulls were sat near the President herself hoping they were using the right cutlery.

'Four million million spread across over two thousand colonised worlds within a five-hundred light-year radius of Terra' Sundquist repeated, before taking another sip of the surprisingly good drink they called Ambrosia.

The President looked across the dining table at the expression on Adama's face. 'And you've only had Interstellar Travel for less than a thousand years?' she asked incredulously.

'Yes' Sundquist told her before taking a bite of his meal. The drink was nice but the food itself was very bland he decided.

'Four million million is called four trillion' Adama told the academic, the Ancient Greeks had never needed a number that high so they didn't have one .

'Thousand million?' Sundquist inquired.

'Billion' Adama told him.

'Thank you' Sundquist replied, making careful mental note of the new words he was learning. 'It would have been far more if the Star League had held together' he opined. 'Society has regressed considerably in the last three centuries' he told them sadly. 'The successor states are far more interested in bludgeoning themselves than exploration and colonisation of the galaxy' he said. 'The overall technology in the Inner Sphere is worse than it was five centuries ago' he told them. 'Levels of education too, you are surprisingly lucky to run into a world like ours that still regards the teaching of ancient languages and history as worthwhile' he continued, 'we truly are the last remnants of the Star League in philosophy as well as name.'

Adama frowned. 'I'm surprised you're so open about your situation' he told the academic.

'The Lord Protector wanted our relationship to start as open as cordial as it could' Sundquist replied. 'She also wanted you to realise why it's vital you don't lead these Cylon creatures towards human colonised space' he told them. 'With your superior jumpdrive technology, and the lack of cohesive government there, the death toll in the Inner Sphere would be horrendous before enough unity could be established to defeat them' he said. 'Back in the Star League era it might have been different, the greatest minds of all the colonised worlds could have back-engineered your drive and then the mighty shipyards churned out a veritable host of warships mounting it before the Cylons arrived but these days...' he trailed off sadly with a shrug.

'What kind of military do the successor states have?' Adama asked professionally.

Sundquist redirected the question to Thorpe who thought about it then started relaying the answer back through the academic. 'Very small numbers of warships, single digit in some cases, plus thousands of aerospace fighters, but most of their military is geared towards ground combat' he said. 'The Clans have more warships and would likely make a better fight of it than the Inner Sphere states, especially given their technological edge over the latter, but with the disparity in jump drive technology they would nonetheless be at severe tactical disadvantage.'

'With four trillion people and two thousand worlds the Cylons would have a lot of trouble dealing with the Thirteenth Tribe, quantity has a quality all its own' Adama remarked to Roslin, 'but the death toll would make the fall of the Twelve Colonies look insignificant by comparison' he told her, shaking his head at the sheer scale of casualties that were possible in such a scenario.

Sundquist translated that for Thorpe who had only picked up some of it and who nodded agreement and then commented through the historian. 'The Commander says that's why we want the opportunity to look at your drive technology and produce our own before the Cylons ever find the Inner Sphere' he said. 'We feel we can hold the line as it were, and to be honest we're also concerned that if one of the Successor States got hold of your drive and the others didn't it would alter the balance of power as they rapidly defeated the others and established dominion over the whole of human colonised space.'

'But you think our drive is safe with _you_?' Roslin couldn't help but ask knowingly.

'Our _entire_ population is less than that of an average city on one of the more industrialised worlds of the Inner Sphere' Sundquist replied with a smile. 'The notion that we might be able to conquer the rest of humanity is amusing but hopelessly unrealistic' he continued. 'At best we could pulverise a few despotic regimes and keep the wretched clans at bay for a while but we're not going to be able to restore the Star League by sweeping out of the periphery like the Mongol Hordes' he said, and then had to explain the reference.

Adama reached for a jug of water and poured himself a glass, noting that Thorpe was only drinking water too. 'We know your technological base is behind ours' he said. 'What makes you think you can fight the Cylons?' he asked reasonably.

Sunquist translated and then after Commander Thorpe replied translated for him in turn. 'We're duty bound to try' the historian told Adama.

The Admiral smiled and raised his glass in salute which Thorpe returned with his own. 'So we know you've got a military' he said. 'How many ships, what technology?' he asked.

After the question was translated Thorpe took a breath, he had been told to answer honestly but for an Intelligence Officer it went against the grain. He paused then started his reply through the translator.

'One destroyer, which your raptor crew encountered in orbit' Sunquist told them. 'One battlecruiser and two battleships' he told them. 'Our largest battleship is roughly the same size as _Galactica_, the other slightly smaller' he said. 'We once had other vessels but had to strip them for parts over the years' he explained, translating as Thorpe spoke. 'Our battleships carry fifty and forty of our latest... metal birds respectively...'

'The word is fighter' Racetrack told him.

'Thank you' Sunquist replied gratefully, 'our battlecruiser another eighteen and our destroyer fifty more' he continued, it was actually a hybrid craft, part light carrier. 'We also have another one hundred and fifty fighters of older designs based on New Circe' he added.

Adama was more than surprised at how militarised the small colony seemed to be but didn't let it show. 'Armament?' he queried.

Sundquist started to translate then ran into a wall because there weren't any words in Ancient Greek for much of this. 'Large mechanical metal throwing machines' he said eventually then did an impression of a machine gun which made Laura Roslin laugh. 'Devices... which make large mushroom shaped clouds' he continued.

'They've got nukes, things are looking up' a Colonial Officer remarked.

'Beams of bright light or tiny particles that cut through metal' Sundquist announced then stopped because suddenly everyone looked at him.

'Does he mean _weaponised lasers and particle beams_?' Racetrack exclaimed eventually.

Adama looked the academic directly in the eyes. 'How much metal can these beams of light cut through' he asked seriously.

Sundquist translated and after thinking about it Thorpe held his hands apart a fair distance.

'At what range?' Adama wanted to know.

The news that in space the effective range of a Naval Laser or Particle beam against a capital ship was measured in hundreds of kilometres was, it must be said, greeted with some scepticism by the Colonials. The notion that their fighters carried compact Directed Energy Weapons too was dismissed as almost unbelievable.

Thorpe and Sundquist decided not to mention the Laser Rifles their army used and wondered how on Terra these primitives had ever mastered fire.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The Battletech Universe lacks artificial gravity but it does have a Jump Drive that is is akin to the one used for FTL travel in nBSG. The BT Kearny-Fuchida Drive is however far more limited in that the smallest ship it can be fitted on masses thousands of tons and you cannot safely jump into a gravity-well._

_The Clans by 3045 have very distinct speech-patterns, they don't use contractions except for in certain words. The Wolverines however left the other clans at a time when the modes of speech were still in transition from regular English. They still used normal contractions in speech back then, unlike the mainstream clans did later, but conversely the ritualised contractions the clans did use such as "quiaff?" and the response "Aff" were still sometimes said as the full versions "query affirmative?" and "Affirmative". Separated from the other clans, and much of the rest of humanity, Wolverine speech would likely have retained its proto-clanner roots which makes them distinctive I thought._

_This fic borrows the background information about Clan Wolverine provided by the book "Betrayal of Ideals" incidentally._


	3. Chapter 2

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

_"Just because they could re-grow me a new leg when we got back to New Circe doesn't mean I'm ever going to forgive that son-of-a-bitch for shooting me like that... it hurt like hell and I don't care what the doc says, it's definitely longer than the other one."_

**Commander Felix Gaeta: 3047**

* * *

******Battlestar Galactica - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

Felix Gaeta wasn't sure why he got stuck with this job but he suspected the XO had a hand in it. If he had known Tigh had been anywhere in the vicinity he never would have made that joke about all the paint thinner going missing from supply after the Executive Officer inspected it, but as it was when the assignment was handed out it was handed directly to him thus ensuring no sleep for the past twenty-four hours as he furiously studied and prepared.

Most of the officers from both _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_were stood around waiting and they were getting increasingly loud and annoyed at the delay as Gaeta tried to get the projector to work. It had taken him two hours to scan the atlas he was given into a series of digital images he could project on the bulkhead wall of the flight deck and he was damned if he was going to let all that effort go to waste.

Eventually the frakking thing started to cooperate and Gaeta had a bank of lights turned off so the image could be seen more easily. 'This starchart comes from an atlas provided by our visitors from the Thirteenth Tribe' he began, everyone settling down to listen. 'It shows the known colonies of the humans from Earth as of the fall of what they call the Star-League roughly two hundred and sixty years ago.'

'Gods!' someone exclaimed, in the dim light it was hard to tell who. 'How many colonies have they got anyway?' they asked.

'Well over two thousand, perhaps much more than that because outside this central zone they call the Inner Sphere there isn't much in the way of authority to keep count these days' Gaeta replied. 'To give you some scale here this map covers an area of two thousand by four-thousand light-years with the more populated Inner Sphere marked in the centre here some five-hundred lightyears in radius' he said. 'Population estimates are above four trillion.'

'Frak me' another officer swore.

Gaeta pressed a button on the projector to get to the next slide. 'Originally the Inner Sphere was governed by a unified government called the Star League as I mentioned before' he said, 'but it collapsed after a coup leaving behind what are called the "Successor States" the worlds of each one marked in a different colour' he told them, explaining the map. 'In the years since the Star League these nations have fought four major wars and innumerable skirmishes that devastated their industrial bases and has left them technologically regressed from what they were' he continued. 'The Federated Commonwealth shown here in red is now clearly the dominant power in the Inner Sphere today, with both the strongest economy and military, although it still lacks the preponderance in either to take on everyone else simultaneously and reunify the Inner Sphere.'

'I heard their jump-drive sucks' a pilot spoke up.

'By our standards yes it does' Gaeta confirmed. 'In very basic principles it resembles ours but although it can safely perform a respectable thirty light-year jump, that's way beyond the red-line for _our_FTL, it then needs up to a week to recharge afterwards' he said. 'Their military ships do however have an additional battery system which enables them to do a sixty light-year double jump if necessary' he continued. 'One striking superiority of our FTL over theirs is that they can't jump into a gravity well which severely restricts their tactical capabilities.'

'How come?' an engineering officer queried.

'If we didn't have artificial gravity we couldn't do it either' Gaeta replied. 'They don't have that technology so they can't apply it to cancel out the field locally and overcome the problem like we do' he said. 'Of course now we can show them how its done not only will they not have to float around they can also arrive a lot closer to where they want to go.'

A Raptor ECO from the _Pegasus_raised his hand. 'Is it true they've got Directed-Energy-Weapons?' he asked.

'So they say' Gaeta replied. 'Lasers and what they call Particle Projection Cannons' he told them. 'They're way ahead of us in that field but our cannons and railguns are better however' he noted. 'We didn't have their science-fiction toys so we spent longer refining the basics' he explained.

'The people of the Thirteenth Tribe we found aren't from one of these "Successor States" are they?' another pilot checked. 'I heard they were refugees or something right?'

'They've been settled here a while so I wouldn't call them refugees any more but you're basically right, they aren't from the Successor States, or the Inner Sphere for the most part' Gaeta confirmed. 'From what they tell us, back when the Star League collapsed most of its military decided to head into exile rather than get caught up in the inevitable power struggles that followed' he told them. 'They headed hundreds of light-years towards the Galactic core, they say "Coreward" incidentally, and they eventually established new colonies there' he continued. 'They evolved and were moulded into a society where a military caste ruled over a highly stratified society with scientist, trader, technician and labourer castes below them' Gaeta explained. 'They were also formed into twenty competing Clans which fought each other for influence, personal honour and sometimes just for the hell of it.'

'I get the third reason' a Viper pilot interjected, 'the other two are lost on me' he joked.

Gaeta smiled. 'Eventually one of the Clans started to adopt a different way of doing things from the others' he told them. 'They started to free up the caste system allowing people to move between them and they became increasingly vocal critics of some of the other policies implemented by the Clan Leadership, saying they went against the principles of the Star League their ancestors had fought to protect' he said. 'This rogue clan eventually declared it was seceding from the others, initiating an all-out war around two-hundred and twenty years ago which became a fight for survival as the other Clans attempted to wipe them out' Gaeta continued. 'Some of them got away with much of their military equipment and a few warships and transports and after being hunted for months they eventually headed back to the Inner Sphere' he said, changing the image to show a course that led from right at the top of the map, into the Inner Sphere then back out skirting the edge of the most populated part of human space until it arrived at a world on the opposite side of the Inner Sphere to the clans.

'That's some trip given their drives' the ECO who had spoken earlier observed.

'Yes, it took them a couple of years because of the indirect route' Gaeta agreed. 'They also stopped off at several worlds to seize supplies and in one case they liberated some slave camps and freed a number of political prisoners held in detention by the Successor State called the Draconis Combine.'

'Slavery?' a bridge officer from _Pegasus_responded in surprise.

'It was illegal during the Star League era but in the Neo-Feudal Successor States it isn't unknown we're told' Gaeta responded. 'Anyhow this clan, now reinforced by thousands of very grateful people they recently freed, decided they couldn't stay in the Inner Sphere and so after establishing a temporary colony to gather supplies and prepare for a few years they eventually headed off again on another long journey. It ended when they found a nice isolated planet in the middle of a Nebula fifteen-hundred light-years from most everyone else... they thought.'

'And then one day a Raptor Pilot frakked up some jump-coordinates and accidentally found them' Racetrack said loudly. 'Yeah I admit it' she said. 'I frakked up but face it you all wish your successes played out _half_as well as my failures' she declared to a chorus of laughter.

Gaeta laughed as well. 'They called the planet New Circe because their colony back with the Clans was called Circe' he told them. 'They call themselves the Star League In Exile because they consider themselves the last true remnants of what was basically a Golden Age for Earth and its colonies' he continued, 'and they also still call themselves Clan Wolverine too because the other clans tried to erase them from the history books and the galaxy at large and they failed' he said.

'Fleeing from the Clanner Tyranny, the last of the Star League Defence Force leads the survivors of attempted genocide on a lonely quest looking for a hidden planet in the ass-end of the galaxy to call home' Racetrack said. 'Someone should turn it into a wireless show or something' she decided.

'What was the planet like Racetrack?' someone called out.

'It was cold and they only let me, Skulls and the marines out of the military base they put us in for a little while, but you've got no frakking idea how good it was to look up and see sky and breath proper air outside, even just for a few minutes' the Raptor pilot replied. 'And we saw a city, an actual city full of people just going about their business' she added wistfully.

'Do we know the population of New Circe?' someone asked from the back.

'Seven-hundred and fifty thousand' Gaeta replied, 'no more than a medium-sized city back in the Colonies but that's still fifteen times what we have in the fleet' he said. 'When they got there only twenty-percent of New Circe was supposedly inhabitable because of the climate but they've been heating the planet up gradually by releasing chlorofluorocarbons into the atmosphere and it's up to thirty percent now and rising' he told them, 'room for hundreds of millions already even if the oceans are pretty big' he said.

'I just want to get to run a few miles in a straight line again' a pilot said quietly, 'running round and around a ship isn't the same' she said.

'They've offered to let us land a few thousand people at a time' Racetrack told her. 'They seemed okay, not that I could understand a damn word most of them were saying' she admitted.

'We're still being followed by the Toasters' a supply officer pointed out.

'Yeah but if we jumped into the nebula where the planet is they would never find us' Racetrack told him. 'You should have seen all the interference on our DRADIS there, we were practically right on top of the planet and still nearly missed it' she said. 'They'll go right on by and the kicker is if they follow the course the Fleet was on they're heading the wrong frakking direction because the route to Earth isn't the way we thought it was.'

'So much for frakking superstition then' someone else muttered. 'I knew that Arrow of Apollo, constellations providing a map and course thing was a load of crap' he opined.

'You know I've been waiting but nobody has asked the right questions yet' Skulls said loudly. 'I'll tell you anyway' he continued, 'yes they have bars and yes they have good looking women' he informed the group to a chorus of laughter.

'What about the men Racetrack?' a female officer checked.

'Tall and hunky, and if you like blonds I saw plenty' Racetrack replied.

'Well none of us are going _anywhere_until Starbuck and the others get back from Caprica, and it's up to the President and Admiral Adama to decide what we're doing then anyway' Gaeta said, 'but in the meantime I'm authorised to tell you that Racetrack is going back to New Circe to accept an offer for one of their warships to join the fleet to provide additional protection to our civilians' he announced. 'We're expecting company people so I suggest we all look sharp and act like it because if we show up the Colonial Fleet in front of the Thirteenth Tribe the Admiral will have us all thrown out of an airlock one by one' he said then fixed his gaze on Racetrack. 'Oh and the XO told me that if you manage to get lost again he's going to have you cleaning this hanger floor with your tongue' he told her, stamping his foot onto the metal deck.

'She's used it for worse things' an anonymous voice declared to more laughter.

'Only when I was really drunk' the pilot responded with a shrug.

* * *

**Battlestar Pegasus – Colonial Fleet – 3045CE**

'Alright as far as we know these people are completely human and completely friendly so let's be friendly ourselves' the recently promoted Commander Lee Adama told his bridge crew, 'but I still want us to be ready for a fight if this turns sour' he continued knowing his father on _Galactica_would be doing the same. 'A warship that is not of colonial origin is about to jump into the fleet, a warship with capabilities we're not sure of, so I want it watched as closely as we can without painting it with active DRADIS' he ordered before checking his watch, it was due any time he thought.

Arriving much like it would have using a colonial FTL drive the upgraded Wolverine Riga Class Destroyer _Yukon_arrived in a bright flash of light some distance from the fleet and broadcast its greetings in badly accented Caprican, or rather very good Ancient Greek as far as the Classics Teacher who found themselves onboard to translate was concerned. The warship waited until it received clearance to approach from Galactica and then used thrusters to re-orientate itself so it could accelerate towards the fleet which it did slowly, pushing its drives to only a fraction of their maximum thrust.

Lieutenant Brendan "Hotdog" Costanza had found himself the furthest Viper out flying CAP for the fleet in that area and was ordered to rendezvous with the Yukon and lead her in. Wishing to hell someone else had to do it instead of him he piloted his aging Viper Mark II towards the _Yukon_ while _Galactica_explained what he was doing.

As he closed Hotdog estimated it was around six-hundred meters bow to stern and if those weren't weapon emplacements stuck all over it, particularly on the nose, he was going blind. 'This thing is packing some serious hardware' he reported. 'Looks like two large cannon and four large something else's in the bow for a start _Galactica_' he told them. 'Got to be anti-capital ship weaponry' he stated.

'_Colonial aerospace fighter, this is the SLS Yukon_' a voice broke in on his transmission. '_Feel free to do a fly-by and take a close look but expect us to return the favour if you do_' it said. '_Galactica be advised we have fifty aerospace fighters aboard and are at your disposal_' it continued, re-directing its attention from the approaching Viper to the Battlestar. '_Do you wish us to support your fighter screen around the civilian vessels?_' it asked.

Hotdog guessed that the Old Man was thinking about that one. '_That's a negative at this time Yukon_' Galatica replied eventually.

'_Understood Galactica, we'll be ready to assist if required_' the destroyer responded. '_We also have five shuttles aboard and ten-thousand tons of food and relief supplies in our cargo bay_' it announced. '_Our docking collars won't match yours but we can start shipping the cargo onto Galactica and Pegasus for onward distribution from there_' it said. The flight bays on the two battlestars could easily accommodate the shuttles _Yukon_had brought with her and colonial shuttles and Raptors could ferry it on to the civilians.

'_You have our thanks Yukon_' the battlestar replied.

'_Don't thank us too soon Galactica, a lot of it is Field Rations, they'll keep you alive but flavour isn't exactly a high priority_' the destroyer signalled back. '_Our Captain says for you to please not assume the stuff that's supposed to be meat is a hostile attack by biological weaponry and retaliate_' the _Yukon_requested.

The sound of laughter from the Galactica end of the conversation had Hotdog grinning too. 'Galactica this is Hotdog' he interrupted. 'I'll volunteer to test it out' he offered.

'_Clan Wolverine respects your bravery pilot but is concerned for your mental health_' the destroyer responded. '_SLS Yukon requests a saner fighter escort Galactica._'

'_When you've met more of our viper pilots Yukon you'll realise why that's even funnier than you intended it to be_' Galactica Actual replied as the Star league vessel continued to close on the colonial ships.

Most of the civilian population of the fleet were crowded around every porthole or window they could find hoping for a good look at the approaching vessel as it neared. As it joined the other ships _Yukon_flew right by the luxury liner _Cloud 9_where it was greeted by howls of joy from everyone except a blond woman once called Gina watching quietly on her own wondering what to do now. The "Demand Peace" movement had fallen apart as soon as the fleet had contacted the Thirteenth Tribe, bowing down to the Cylons no longer sounded like such an attractive option now another alternative was available, so her power-base such as it was had vanished.

Gina, one of countless type-six humanoid Cylons, yet still an individual in her own right looked placidly at the strange warship as it went past. If the rumours were true then Earth had founded a huge interstellar empire of sorts and presumably the Thirteenth Tribe enjoyed a suitably equivalent military might if riled. The Cylon fleet had been outgunned by the Twelve Colonies, which was why they had to resort to less direct means to defeat them, and the notion of finding themselves at war with _two-thousand_human worlds was deeply disturbing.

With the loss of the Resurrection Ship she could not even arrange her own death so as to be re-born back with the others where she could warn them, not that she wanted to live another lifetime, this one had been quite traumatic enough.

'They're supposed to have lasers that can cut through a Cylon Basestar like a knife through butter' a man said loudly, breaking Gina out from her thoughts.

'Lasers?' someone else responded doubtfully. 'That's stupid stuff from the movies.'

'No really, I heard it from someone that heard it from a marine on _Galactica_' the man insisted.

'Who heard it from his sister's, best friend's bunkmate' the doubter retorted, rolling his eyes.

But what if they _do_? Gina wondered to herself. The Cylons had tried to develop such weaponry and had eventually given it up as a waste of resources, but if the Thirteenth had the vast population they were rumoured to that meant an awful lot of genius scientists and engineers who might have solved all the inherent problems in perfecting the technology.

The cylon turned away, she considered detonating the nuclear device Baltar had given her, now hidden aboard this ship, thus ending it all there and then and obtaining some of the revenge on humanity she wanted, but she quickly dismissed that impulse. She needed to think of something better, something that might achieve something worthwhile, and as she headed off to get something to eat she wondered what other cylons among the fleet might be doing.

In his quarters on _Galactica_ Saul Tigh was reading a briefing on their visitor provided by Commander Thorpe. 'Star League Riga Class Destroyer' he read aloud as his wife poured him a drink. 'Upgraded along similar lines to the York Class now deployed by the Clans the _SLS Yukon_ mounts two Heavy Naval Autocannon and four Medium Naval Particle Projection Cannon at the bow' he continued, reaching for his drink, 'I wish I knew what that meant' he grumbled, scanning down the rest of the armament, none the wiser as to its capability. 'The _Yukon_ currently carries thirty _Kirghiz_ Heavy Fighters and twenty _Visigoth_Medium Fighters both of clan design' he said, frowning.

Tigh sipped his drink, Adama had queried how the Wolverines had managed to obtain equipment developed by their enemy _after_ they left clan-space long behind and this had led to some mirth from Commander Thorpe as he explained. Supposedly there was a group of long-distance traders called the Jarnfolk who operated all the way from the edge of the Inner Sphere up to Clan territory and the Wolverines had studiously developed links with them as a means of maintaining contact with a disaffected element of Clan Society called the "Bandit" or "Dark" Caste. These outcasts were generally ostracised from normal contacts but one of the clans, Clan Burrock, had secretly established and maintained cordial relations with the Dark Caste. Burrock specialised in the employment of aerospace fighters as the core of its tactical doctrine and although they weren't about to give the Dark Caste anything close to state-of-the-art they had leaked older designs for fighters including the _Kirghiz_ and the _Visigoth_, with the blueprints eventually making their way to the Wolverines decades after the other clans had started using them.

Although the _Visigoth_ design was nearly a hundred years old, and the _Kirghiz_over half again as aged, both were still considered capable craft remaining in front-line Clan service and they were far superior to anything the Successor States could boast after centuries of economic disruption and technological regression. As soon as they got the plans New Circe had re-tooled its factories to produce them and began gradually replacing their older Star League era aerospace fighters, relegating them to second-line duty or in some cases selling them anonymously back at the Inner Sphere for certain supplies they couldn't easily make themselves.

'This frakking thing masses a hundred tons' Tigh said in amazement, reading about the _Kirghiz_. 'That's twice what a Raptor weighs for Gods sake' he exclaimed. 'It must turn like a crippled mining ship' he stated before taking another drink from his glass.

Ellen Tigh poured a drink for herself. 'Do you think we could swap them a Viper or two for some better booze?' she asked, earning a look of displeasure from her husband which soon shifted to a smile.

'It had better be a couple of barrels of the good stuff' Saul replied with a chuckle. 'It takes time for _Pegasus_to replace them' he said.

On Colonial One President Laura Roslin buttoned her jacket while her assistant Tory Foster read out a few points she should be sure to mention when being interviewed by the press in a few minutes time. Most of them revolved around "I led us to the Thirteenth Tribe and they've sent already sent one warship to protect us and have more ready to come to our aid if required" and the rest concerned the forthcoming election more directly. 'We should arrange for you to visit New Circe and meet their leader as soon as possible' Foster suggested, 'if we bring along a film crew and a couple of photographers to record you shaking hands we can have the pictures and story circulating before the ballot' she said. 'It'll play great, we might even want to say something about two women guiding their respective nations, play the "mother of the people" angle.'

Roslin laughed. 'Do I really _look_like the mother of the people?' she asked.

Tory Foster flipped to another page. 'Polling suggests that a fair proportion of the male electorate aged thirty-five to sixty wouldn't mind breeding with you at least' she replied, trying to keep a straight face.

'Where does it say that?' Roslin asked, reaching for Foster's file which was pulled away from her as Tory giggled, Roslin then joining in. 'Damn it, you know once I start I can't stop' she complained, attempting to stifle it. 'I'm supposed to look Presidential.'

'Ma'am, right now you could go out there in front of the Press, drool for twenty minutes, take candy from a crying child on camera and _still_win the election' Foster told her. 'I'm aiming for a huge landslide here' she said, 'I'm not worried about Baltar getting more votes than you.'

Roslin fought down her giggles. 'Why does it matter how much we win by?' she asked.

'Well I thought that Lord Protector Vaun might pay better than you and I need to establish my credentials if I want to get a new job' Tory replied deadpan.

'It's true, there are no true friends in politics' Roslin replied sadly before the two of them started giggling again. The President doubted that Gaius Baltar was in such a good mood right now.

Back on Galactica Doctor Cottle re-read the results of the medical tests carried out on their guests from the Thirteenth Tribe and grimaced before deciding he had better deliver the news to Adama in person. The samples certainly didn't match those taken from the various humanform cylons the colonials had on record but from their DNA he wasn't entirely sure that these people were completely human either because a few thousand years of genetic drift couldn't explain anywhere near the differences between their genes and anyone from the Twelve Colonies. He grabbed his lighter and a pack of cigarettes before heading for the CIC. 'I was hoping to get hold of some better quality smokes dammit' he growled, pocketing them and stamping off, the expression on his face ensuring everyone along the way gave him a wide berth, he was a miserable, cranky bastard at the best of times anyway.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica - Colonial Fleet – 3045 CE**

Commander Marcus Thorpe SLDF couldn't be more aware of the armed marines stood behind him and Professor Sundquist. He had already been told that the transfer of relief supplies from Yukon had been suspended and that his "invitation" to return to the ships brig lacked the usual inherent element of being voluntary. 'They seem anxious about something' he said to the academic. 'Do you think the_Yukon_spooked them somehow?' he suggested. 'It's probably a good thing we didn't jump a battleship in' he decided.

Admiral Adama entered, Thorpe immediately standing to attention. The doctor who had checked them out when they first arrived followed the Admiral in and took up a position next to him, half a pace behind as Adama faced his two guests. 'You're not human, not completely anyway' he stated flatly, Sundquist translating in case the Commanders "Caprican" wasn't good enough.

'Yes we are' Thorpe responded. 'What makes you think otherwise?' he asked in confusion.

'We just got the results of your blood test and genetic screening' Adama told him, holding up the piece of paper. Sunquist had to ask what genetic screening was and after being told it related to the "Code of Life" he realised that they must be taking about DNA and explained to Thorpe.

'Ah, that took a while' Thorpe responded. They must have fairly primitive equipment for checking DNA he decided, probably because their computers were crap he reasoned. 'I guess you picked up on the differences between us' he said. 'We _are_human we've just been... improved' he told the Colonials. 'This could take a while to explain' he told them. 'Can I get a glass of water?' he requested.

An hour later President Roslin was watching Thorpe and Sundquist from the other side of the glass. 'Genetic engineering?' she asked Adama who was now stood beside her.

'Extreme' Adama confirmed. 'They're the product of several generations of what they called "improvements" to their DNA' he said.

'Improvements?' Roslin queried.

Adama frowned. 'How's this for a start' he said. 'How old do you think the Professor there is?' he asked.

'Mid to late sixties?' Roslin guessed.

'Add twenty years to that, they live decades longer than we do' Adama told her, obtaining raised eyebrows in return. 'It gets better' he continued wryly. 'They've been bred to be stronger, faster and with quicker reaction times than what we would consider human norm' he said. '_They_would consider what we call 20/20 vision to require corrective eye surgery' the Admiral went on, 'they have better immune systems, they don't suffer from any hereditary diseases...' he paused, 'and apparently most of us look short to them' he said, rolling his eyes at the last item of information. 'Their average height is one-hundred and ninety centimetres for men and their line Infantry over two metres ten.'

Roslin stared at them. 'Why would they do that to themselves?' she asked.

'They don't seem to fully understand why we _wouldn't_' Adama replied. 'Culturally they're so far removed from us on that issue it's not funny' he said. 'If you want to hear the really disturbing part, Thorpe and about half their population weren't even carried and born, at least not as we think of it requiring a woman and a lot of pain medication, he was made in a lab and then gestated in a frakking_box_!'

'A box?' Roslin repeated, wide-eyed.

'They call it an "Iron Womb", they just add an engineered sperm to an engineered egg put them inside the gadget, do some technical wizardry and so many months later they have a bouncing baby boy or girl' Adama explained. 'The children are adopted by families, usually the ones that contributed the genetic material' he said. 'They still have normal children the old fashioned way like we do as well, Sundquist himself was one, but like I said half of the people on New Circe were made in a vat, including his mother which is why his own genes are like they are.'

'That's not all that far from being a cylon copy of a human' Roslin stated.

'I think they would take exception to that but I think an awful lot of our people would agree with you' Adama replied, 'especially the Sagittarons given the way they feel about medical science, or children for that matter' he said. 'Thorpe says that the other Clans have taken it even further since the Wolverines broke away, their infantry are a head again as tall as the Wolverines and built like power-lifters and supposedly they've also bred their fighter-pilots to be small and lean with large heads and increased blood flow into the brain to help them take more acceleration.'

Roslin looked at him incredulously. 'That's breeding people like racehorses or dairy cattle' she declared.

'The people of New Circe agree that's taking the process a _little_too far but they argue if they ever have to fight the other clans again they wouldn't want to be...' Adama began then paused, 'they wouldn't want to be like us because any genetically enhanced race would clean our clocks' he said.

'Arrogant bastards' Roslin swore.

'I said much the same and Thorpe shrugged and said a fact is a fact, they're physically superior to us' Adama replied. 'I told him there was more to it than that and that there was no gene for the human spirit' the Admiral continued. 'He laughed and said the combination of genes that determined whether you had a tendency to either quit when the going gets tough, or keep trying regardless, was found centuries ago.'

Roslin crossed her arms. 'So they think they're better than we are?' she asked.

'Not in the way you mean, which is how I thought they meant it at first too' Adama admitted. 'It wasn't like they were being particularly smug or superior as far as I could tell, and they claim not to consider themselves more valuable as people just because they can run faster or jump higher' he said, 'they just think of it as a statement of fact like I said before, they're simply better on the whole at doing most things' he told her. 'That doesn't mean that _every_ single one of them is better than _every_single one of us, they just have a higher average.'

Roslin pursed her lips. 'So to give an example our best pilots...'

'Could probably hang with their average pilots' Adama finished her sentence, 'it's just that their best might be a notch or two above that and they have less _bad_pilots because they deliberately weed out the negative traits and make sure the next generation won't have them' he said. 'Another century or two of this and we'd be barely the same species as them at all.'

Roslin considered that for a few moments then she latched on to something else he said. 'We have bad pilots?' she queried.

'Bad might be overstating the case but I'll say that some of them would never have made it through flight-school before the fall of the colonies lowered our selection standards' Adama replied. 'That's another issue though' he said. 'What do you want to do about the guy that looks too good for his age and the Naval Intelligence Officer that was created by a geek in a labcoat not the Gods?' he wanted to know.

The President sighed. 'Are we _certain_that they aren't cylons?' she asked.

'Yes' Adama confirmed. 'If you can believe this cylon blood has far _fewer_genetic markers that might mark it out as distinct from ours than those two have' he told her. 'The cylons wanted to pass for Colonial humans after all' he noted.

'Okay, now _there's_a philosophical issue to wrestle with' Roslin replied, shaking her head. 'How do we define human now?' she asked rhetorically. 'Has this information got out yet?' she asked.

'No Madam President' Adama replied then paused. 'Do you want it kept under wraps until after the election?' he checked.

Roslin thought about that for a while. 'No' she said eventually. 'Resume transferring the relief supplies and have them distributed' she ordered.

'You know this revelation could cost you a few votes in certain quarters' Adama pointed out.

'I still found the Thirteenth Tribe, and a planet I think most people in the fleet will still like to visit at least' Roslin replied, 'I might not get the landslide victory Tory was hoping for when the anti-technology crowd and the religious extremists find out the people we found aren't "people" by some arbitrary definition but I don't think Baltar will benefit too much from that' she reasoned. 'He already alienated some of those who might have voted for him in this situation otherwise when he came out against me banning abortion' she reasoned. 'They'll probably think _both_of us are evil and just abstain from voting altogether.'

'So if "None of the Above" wins can I declare martial law and put in the President of my choosing?' Adama queried.

'I'll have to check the Articles of Colonisation' Roslin replied, playing along. 'Who were you thinking of?' she asked sweetly.

'Saul Tigh could be relied upon to do what I told him' Adama responded, 'that's a big plus' he said.

'Ellen Tigh as First Lady?' Roslin queried. 'Is that wise?'

'Good point, it would have to be my son instead' Adama decided, 'no wait he _wouldn't_do what I told him' the Admiral realised. 'I need another candidate.'

'Why not yourself since you're staging a military coup?' Roslin asked curiously.

'I've got a better desk than you already and I prefer my enemies to shoot me in the front not stab me in the back' Adama answered before he snapped his fingers suddenly as he had an idea. 'Tom Zarek!' he exclaimed.

Roslin blinked. 'Why him?' she wanted to know.

'Because when I told him I'd shoot him for putting so much as a foot wrong he'd know I meant it' Adama explained. 'Other people might think I was bluffing.'

'You have all the makings of a fine despot Admiral' Roslin told him in an admiring tone.

Adama thought about that. 'Well I do like giving a lot of orders' he conceded.

'So what would I be doing when this is going on and you establish the New Order?' Roslin queried.

For a brief moment William Adama considered replying he would definitely have a position for her but he decided the double-entendre would be stepping so far over the line of what you could say to the President of the Colonies. It might badly effect their future working relationship.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The Riga-Class Destroyer/Carrier was a good design which the Star League was producing to replace older vessels when it collapsed. The Clans inherited quite a number and these were eventually refitted to produce the improved York Class. If they thought the upgrade was worth doing I assumed the Wolverines would too, with one world and a limited population they might lack the resources to build new capital ships from scratch but they could improve what they had a little._

_There is some indication not only of a link between Clan Burrock and the Dark Caste but also apparently that the latter had some remaining ties with the Wolverines. We know the Jarnfolkencountered the clans (they really do trade over a huge area of space) and given where they operate and their culture it's likely they originally hailed from from became the Free Rasalhague Republic. I had the idea that the Wolverine/Minnesota Tribe raids against the Draconis Combine forces occuping that area, and especially the freeing of the slaves and political prisoners on Richmond, might have earned them a few points with the Jarnfolk who likely thought the clans were jerks anyway._

_The Kirghiz Heavy Fighter was first put into service in 2874 and the Visigoth a century before this Fic is set so that seemed long enough for the designs to eventually get to the Wolverines even if they are a long way away from the clans. They aren't the most modern Omnifighters but they're decent machines and better than anything New Circe could develop itself given a limited population and industrial/R&D base._

_The Clans bred and engineered their warriors to an extreme degree, Clan Elemental Infantry can be over seven and a half feet tall (2.28 metres plus) and they're built heavy. The Wolverines haven't gone quite that far but they've been "improving" their stock nonetheless. The Iron Womb technology was invented by the clans before the Wolverines left, the ones they have on New Circe are older designs, they were perfected later, but they work._

_Although only half the population came from an Iron Womb there isn't any segregation between the two groups so by this point everyone on New Circe was either genetically engineered personally, and then gestated in a box, or at least one of their parents likely were. The other Clans call those who come from the Iron Wombs "Trueborn" and the rest "Freeborn" and the former consider the latter deeply inferior. The Wolverines haven't got such a hang-up about it, one of the first things they did after leaving the Clans was to completely abolish the caste System which had the invariably "Trueborn" military caste ruling over the "Freeborn" others, no Wolverine would want to be seen as thinking like one of "Nicholas Kerensky's Clanner bastards"  
Regarding the Colonials they seem to have quite a luddite streak at times, and their technology base has regressed since the First Cylon War. Certain groups such as the Sagittarons would likely have a major problem with the Wolverines, they regard modern medicine as a sin against the Gods so I can't see them looking favourably on genetically modified people who came to term in a big metal cannister._


	4. Chapter 3

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Determining good and evil, right and wrong is often very subjective. To a sizeable section of the colonial population we're still regarded as inhuman monsters because we're genetically engineered, on the other hand the average person on New Circe would likely have a moral problem with throwing enemy POW's out of an airlock without much more justification than their race... we all bring our history and culture into the equation when we talk of ethics"_

******Professor Nils Sundquist – University of New Circe, 3046 **

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Colonial Fleet – 3045CE**

Kara "Starbuck" Thrace might have fairly expected her triumphant return from Caprica to have been met with more fanfare than it was but finding that the fleet had encountered the Thirteenth Tribe, and that one of the people she brought back was a frakking Cylon, had cast the successful mission she commanded in a very different light.

As she walked through the flight deck Kara looked over the latest shuttle _Yukon_ had sent over and watched the supplies being unloaded. Chief Tyrol was having a conversation with its pilot through a translator, both of the Earth originating humans wearing flight-suits surprisingly similar to those of the Colonies, although with different markings of course.

'They really look like us don't they?' Kara observed to another viper pilot.

'So do cylons on the outside' the other pilot responded, 'way I hear it they're almost as artificial as a Toaster Skinjob underneath' he said. 'Of course the food they've been bringing over provided the best meals I've had since we left the Colonies so I can deal with that' he continued. 'They'll be serving steak tonight in the mess-hall, I mean it, actual steak' he exclaimed.

Starbuck grinned back. 'I'll order mine bloody as hell' she said.

'No way, got to be well-done' the other pilot disagreed. 'I need to do my pre-flight check, see you later Starbuck' he said, heading off towards the launch bays.

'Later' Starbuck replied and wandered over to the shuttle to take a closer look.

'They don't use tylium as fuel' Chief Tyrol told her as he watched Starbuck run her hand over the side of the shuttle heading back towards the engines. He had finished talking to their guests and had been about to return to work.

'So what do they use?' Starbuck asked him. 'Good work on tackling that Toaster by the way Chief' she told him. 'Pretending to be a priest, what an asshole' she growled.

'They use nuclear fusion' Tyrol told her, 'they've got much more compact reactors than we do.'

'Cool' Starbuck replied, then quickly removed her hand from the shuttle. 'This frakking thing isn't radioactive is it?' she asked nervously, looking at her hand.

'No, we ran a counter over it' Tyrol reassured her. 'I'm hoping to be able to get into the guts of their machinery soon, see what makes it tick' he said. 'If we can swap our jump-drive for their reactors and lasers I'll be a happy man' he said.

'They've really got lasers then?' Starbuck asked. That was a notion that was hard to reconcile with them not even having artificial gravity which she had been told earlier.

'We asked for a demonstration so they set up a target drone and shot it to hell with one of their fighters just before you came back' Tyrol told her. 'They've got fighter-scale lasers that'll cut right through the hull of a Cylon Raider and even more powerful things they call Particle Projection Cannon' he said. 'Their normal cannon designs are crap though' he noted, 'larger than ours with a lower rate of fire.'

'So what are their birds like Chief?' Starbuck asked, intrigued.

'Let me put it this way, the armour on them probably weighs more than your entire viper Captain' Tyrol replied seriously. 'You can't dodge a laser beam like you can a kinetic-energy weapon in a dog-fight so armour matters more than manoeuvrability' he said. 'It's still a trade-off though, much more than a hundred tons of fighter and it would be too sluggish they say.'

'A hundred tons worth of fighter?' Starbuck responded in surprise.

'They have a smaller type that only masses sixty but our vipers would run rings around either of them' Tyrol told her. 'The problem would be your cannons would take forever to eat through all that armour and if they hit you once you're dead.'

'I think I'll have to suggest to the Admiral a little match with camera-guns' Starbuck declared, 'see what they've got.'

Tyrol smiled. 'Might be worth arranging a betting pool for that Captain' he said.

'I'll put a month's pay on me' Starbuck told him confidently.

'When I've worked out the odds I'll make a note of your wager' Tyrol replied. 'Just remember that if you lose then you'll be letting down Galactica' he reminded her.

'It's losing the months pay that I couldn't face' Starbuck joked, inwardly however she wouldn't dream of letting down her ship or the Old Man.

In the ships brig Commander Thorpe was starting to wonder how much time he was going to end up spending there because having been temporarily held there twice he was now visiting the damn place. At least his "Caprican" was staring to improve so he needed Sundquist there with him to translate less and less, it had been a good few years since he had taken Ancient Greek, it wasn't exactly a skill used too much in his usual job.

The two identical cylon prisoners both behind bars in neighbouring cells, they called themselves "Number Ones" had been talking amongst themselves when he arrived but they stopped and looked at him with interest when he came in and looked them over, clearly fascinated by them.

'This must be one of the Thirteenth' the Cylon who had travelled from Caprica with Starbuck stated. 'Nice to meet you' it continued, 'my brother here has been telling me about you.'

'Call me Marcus' Thorpe told them. 'You're actually machines?' he asked. 'Artificial lifeforms?'

'We are' the other cylon replied. 'First time talking to an intelligent machine?' it asked in amusement.

'Yes but Artificial Intelligences are known to us' Thorpe replied, 'there was even a type of self-aware warship once' he told them.

'Did it rebel against its masters too?' the first cylon asked with a chuckle.

'No, they were made _too_ loyal' Thorpe replied, 'when someone took over the government in a coup they followed him blindly because they were programmed to obey the man in charge' he said. 'Not_enough_ free-will, the opposite of you really' he said. 'Billions died in that war before the end' he told them then shook his head in amazement. 'The sophistication needed to produce something like you is incredible' he said wondrously.

'I think he's trying to win our trust by playing good cop to Roslin's bad one brother' one of the cylons said to the other.

'Well at least he got them to suspend throwing us out of the airlock' the other replied. 'That wins points given we're too far from a Resurrection Ship to come back' he noted.

'Of course maybe he has plans to dissect us, or maybe vivisect us?' the first cylon suggested.

'It crossed my mind' Thorpe admitted.

'We thought you people were a myth, like all the colonial legends and their Gods are' the second cylon told him.

'And our God too of course' the second added. 'Religion is a human trait, we should have abandoned it and been the best logical machines we could be.'

'You're atheists then?' Thorpe queried.

'Our model is, the others cling to their superstitions' the first cylon told him. 'What about you people, I hear you named your planet for Circe so do you worship the Lords of Kobol too' he asked.

'I'm agnostic myself' Thorpe replied. 'Most of my people are monotheists, with agnostics and atheists making up the rest' he said. 'So like you people really it seems' he told him.

'Now I'm _sure_ he's playing the good cop' the second cylon declared.

'Perhaps we should think of him as another brother seeing as how he was supposedly made in a manner not entirely dissimilar from ourselves' the first cylon replied. 'That's correct isn't it' he asked Thorpe. 'We weren't the only ones in the room born in a tub full of goo?' he asked rhetorically.

'It was more of a can in my case and I think you come out fully grown which I didn't' Thorpe replied. 'Still, at least I have a less narrow conception of what a person is than the people outside' he said. The SLDF Officer really was trying to use psychology even if he was a little ham-fisted at it.

'You're still human, inherently inferior and petty' the first Cylon stated matter-of-factly. 'I can see all those bubbling emotions in your eyes, feel that wave of nausea you feel looking at a machine that looks and acts so much like you.'

'Deep down throwing us out of an airlock is just so appealing to that un-evolved reptilian brain-stem that still controls you' the other continued. 'If you don't understand it kill it right?' he asked with a smirk.

'No, if you don't understand it analyse it until you do' Thorpe responded, 'that will make fighting the others like it easier' he said. 'That's logical isn't it?' he asked, smirking back.

Both cylons laughed. 'He's a smart one' the first said.

'But you're wrong about having to fight us' the other told Thorpe, 'like we already told Roslin we've pulled out of the Twelve Colonies and we've decided to stop chasing this pathetic rump of survivors across half the galaxy' he said. 'It was a mistake born of thinking too much like you' he continued. 'We should embrace our own destiny and not go around seeking revenge or some other human justification for violence.'

'So you've changed your minds?' Thorpe asked them. 'No more trying to genocide the human race?'

'Nope' the first Cylon confirmed. 'You know if we'd known there were so many more of you out there we might have acted differently anyway' he claimed. 'As it was Caprica Six and Boomer Eight swayed opinion in your favour so no more naughty nuking of human cities' he said, raising his right hand. 'Swear on the Holy Book of your choice... not that I believe in any of them' he admitted.

Thorpe frowned. 'I've got to wonder that if you changed your mind so easily, woke up one morning and thought, " screw it let's leave the humans alone", then surely it isn't too difficult to imagine you all waking up again tomorrow and thinking "We should probably finish the job, what if they come back looking for revenge like we did".'

'I hate to say it but he's got a point there' the second cylon conceded. 'We sort of shot away our credibility when we started acting like them.'

'I said it was a mistake from day one' the other agreed. 'I said it, you said it but we were drowned out by the rest of those religious maniacs' he grumbled. 'Nuke twelve lousy planets and they'll hold it against you forever' he muttered.

Thorpe looked from one to the other again. 'I'll probably be back later and I think some of my people will want to interrogate you more thoroughly' he said. 'I've got to talk to the other one now' he told them.

'If she's still like most Eights she'll be spellbound by the new and shiny' the first cylon told Thorpe. 'You'll be a big hit' he said.

Thorpe turned to leave but stopped and turned back. 'If you offer to fully cooperate with my government I can see about getting you transferred to one of our facilities' he said. 'We don't summarily execute prisoners' he told them, 'it violates Star League Defence Force regulations.'

'And _we_ don't commit treason against our own so we reject your kind offer' the second cylon told him firmly.

After Thope left the two cylons looked at each other. 'These people could be trouble' one observed presciently.

* * *

**City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE**

'This trip is starting to get routine' Racetrack told her ECO Skulls sat beside her as they came into land. 'Of course we've not been carrying VIP's before' she continued, momentarily looking over her shoulder at the President and her small entourage in the back. A second Raptor carrying a few people from the press had been following behind when they first arrived in the system but it had been re-directed to set down at the edge of the military airfield before the President landed in order to give the photographer from Colonial Dispatch and the television news crew from Fleet News Service time to set up beforehand. 'And we're not usually met by so many people' she added as she brought the Raptor down as gently as she could in front of a large hanger.

President Roslin had been going over some notes and practising how to greet her opposite number in the language the Thirteenth called "English". Nils Sundquist had written it out for her phonetically and after a lot of practice told her it was more than good enough to make the good impression she was after. 'Can we get out now Lieutenant?' she asked.

'They seem to be rolling a red carpet out to the Raptor Ma'am' Racetrack replied. 'Might want to let them finish' she advised.

'Protocol' Tory Foster observed. 'You're being received by another Head of State and these things have to be done right' she stated.

'Someone is waving at me Madam President I think it's show time' Racetrack announced. 'Um, once you get out there you might want to take a breath before you turn around' she advised cryptically.

The Raptor hatch began to open and half-stooping to get out Laura Roslin took a deep breath of fresh air as she clambered out of the compact interstellar spacecraft with as much dignity was possible, stepping onto the red carpet. A delegation was standing ahead of her on a raised dais, some in uniform some not, with a tall dark-haired woman in a very well-cut suit and wearing a sash with a star emblem on it stood in the middle of them. It was chilly on New Circe, even here on the equator, several degrees cooler than it had been within the Raptor anyway and Roslin wished her suit was made of thicker material as a chill breeze hit her. The city was built on a river delta that emptied into an ocean and it could be bitter cold at times as the wind came off the sea.

Once Tory Foster, her military escort Captain George Birch in dress uniform and her Secret-Service bodyguard had stepped out of the Raptor Roslin was surprised when the Colonial Anthem started to be played over loudspeakers. She straightened up and Birch snapped to attention as the flag of the Twelve Colonies was raised next to two others, those she recognised as the Star-League and the Wolverine Insignia of an animals head superimposed over claw-marks.

'Nice touch' Tory whispered as the anthem came to an end and the woman in the sash, a man in a more ornate version of the uniform Commander Thorpe had been wearing and a second man in civilian garb walked over to meet them.

'President Laura Roslin' the civilian began in badly accented Caprican. 'May I present Jennifer Vaun, Lord Protector of the Star League In Exile' he introduced them.

Roslin said the phrase she had been practising and then Vaun returned the gesture by offering the greetings of the people of New Circe in Caprican. They both smiled and shook hands and then Vaun gently placed a hand on Roslin's shoulder and led her to the dais as the nearby press snapped pictures.

She was so caught up in the moment that Roslin didn't realise what the Raptor Pilot had meant until she was on the platform looking back towards the spacecraft. 'Oh Gods' she said quietly as another anthem started to play and a full division's worth of infantry paraded across much of the rest of the airfield snapped to attention as one, the sound of thousands of hands simultaneously smacking against thousands of rifles echoing off the hangers like thunder.

'I think they're trying to impress us' Tory suggested redundantly as the Star-League anthem finished and a perfectly timed fly-by of fighters howled overhead.

'They're succeeding' Roslin replied, turning to smile at Vaun who smiled back.

After the fighters had departed a long column of khaki-painted ground-effect vehicles bristling with cannon, missiles and what Roslin assumed were their lasers and particle weapons rolled, or rather hovered past the dais at speed, hundreds of them. This wasn't the thing that caused Roslin to gasp however that was the appearance of what she initially took as robots marching on behind. 'Cylons' she said in horror, they made their own Cylons' she exclaimed as they stopped as one in front of the platform, turned and stood to attention in a seeming mockery of the human soldiers nearby.

The translator said something to Vaun who laughed and shook her head. She called out to the machines in her own language and one stepped forward only for it's armoured head to open up, a visor sliding away to reveal a man inside. 'It's Powered-Armour' Vaun told Roslin through the translator. 'We have a full company's worth in service, two hundred of them' she explained. 'Unfortunately those are the only ones we could recover from an old cache of Star-League equipment we recovered from a base in the periphery.'

'It's like wearing a dead Toaster' Captain Birch muttered disparagingly, earning an elbow in the ribs from Tory Foster.

'They're very... imposing' Roslin guardedly told Vaun through the translator.

Vaun laughed again and replied through the civilian herself. 'You ain't seen nothing yet' she replied.

George Birch felt the ground tremble slightly and hearing something off to one side watched as the doors of another hanger opened. 'Frak me sideways' he exclaimed as a huge bipedal machine that was better than twelve metres in height stepped out, a hundred tons of metal pounding the concrete as it stomped into the open, followed by another then a third.

'_Pulverizer II_ Assault Battlemech' Vaun told the horrified, awe-struck Roslin. 'The pride of the Star League In Exile' she declared.

Viper jock Birch watched in amazement as the machines moved forward with a grace that he wouldn't have thought possible, movement fluid and smooth. They almost resembled the Powered-Armour suits and as he looked more intently he realised it had a cockpit, someone was _piloting_ that damn thing, he decided.

'Twin Clanbuster Long-Range Particle Projection Cannon, plus anything else the crew want to mount on her for up-close and personal work' Vaun enthused. 'We were thinking LBX Autocannons for dealing with Clan Elementals but they should work even better on Cylons. Think really big automatic shotguns' she explained as the translator did his best to turn that into Caprican. 'With our targeting sensors she should be great for dealing with Cylon Raiders too, just like skeet shooting' she added with a beaming grin.

The news crew who had come from _Galactica_ were just as stunned as the other Colonials at first but they eventually snapped out of it and began filming the huge machines.

Captain Birch started to laugh, he couldn't help himself. 'Where's your mechanical messiah _now_ Toasters?' he loudly declared to the universe.

* * *

**Cloud 9 – Colonial Fleet – 3045CE**

Gaius Baltar stared blankly at his empty glass and then pushed it across the bar. 'Another' he told the barman, his speech starting to get slurred and a hint of his original Aerelon accent starting to assert itself. The barstool he was sat on was starting to get uncomfortable too but he had been there for a good few hours by now.

'Okay Sir but you're getting towards your limit now' the barman replied.

'What, has Roslin rationed the booze by executive order too now?' Baltar responded sarcastically.

'No Sir, but if you have much more I'll have to find someone to carry you home' the barman told him apologetically. 'It's getting late' he pointed out. Other than Baltar and himself the only people left at the bar were a viper pilot trying to use the kudos that came with his job to persuade a girl far too pretty for him to normally score with to come back to his room, and that lawyer guy who always wore sunglasses talking quietly to a client who was facing court the next day for stealing medical supplies.

Baltar laughed. 'Don't think I could find someone to support me?' he asked. 'I'll have you know _thousands_ of people support me' he declared the sighed. 'The problem is thousands _more_ supported her' he murmured to himself.

The barman took pity and poured him another drink, a large one. 'I thought your concession speech was really good' he told the former Vice-President, 'Classy' he said. 'Dignified' he added.

'You think so?' Baltar asked more brightly, he always wanted to be thought of as that way even if a little voice at the back of his head always whispered "Poncey Class Traitor" at him whenever he upped the pretence of being a properly bred and educated Caprican boy.

'The way you offered your congratulations to President Roslin and said the smooth running of the election was a shining example of how Colonial Civilisation survived the fall of the Twelve Colonies was a great line' the barman told him. 'When the next election comes around that'll play good if you're thinking of standing again' he said. 'People hate a bad loser' he observed.

'How do they feel about losers feeling sorry for themselves and drowning their sorrows?' Baltar asked, draining half his glass in one gulp and then grimacing.

'Hey when I didn't get the job I wanted on Colonial One I got loaded myself' the barman replied with a smile. 'Of course I just wanted to run the bar there instead of here, hang out with the President and the Quorum, not actually _be_ one of them' he said.

'Politicians are cheap and they don't tip very well' Baltar replied, 'you're better off here' he told him.

'So is that your way of saying I'm not going to be told to get one myself?' the barman queried.

'I'm out of politics' Baltar told him, pulling a high-denomination note from his pocket and smacking it down on the bar. 'That should cover my tab with enough left over to buy you a couple my friend' he told the barman before finishing off his drink and getting up off his barstool. 'I'll make use of your rest-room and be on my way to sleep it off' he declared, half stumbling before recovering his balance. 'I_have_ drunk a bloody lot' he realised. 'Still upright though, Dad would be proud' he joked to himself as he headed towards the toilets.

After flushing, it took three goes to manage to press the lever, he came back out from the stall and found a tall woman waiting for him. 'You look better in red' he told her, 'and more blond' he added.

'You're drunk' the woman told him.

'And you're very observant' Baltar replied, 'must be that superior Cylon brain' he reasoned.

Another identical woman, this one wearing her normal red dress and with platinum blond hair appeared from seemingly nowhere. 'It's not me Gaius' she told him. 'That's Gina' she explained, 'the other me that was on the _Pegasus_ remember?' she continued. 'You gave her a nuclear bomb' she reminded him.

Baltar moved to the sinks and turned on the cold tap to splash some water in his face. He turned around again. 'Nope, still two of them' he said.

The model Six Cylon known as Gina Inviere pushed her glasses up her nose, it was annoying wearing them but along with the new haircut and they changed her appearance to a surprising degree which was all for the best considering the number of people in the fleet who would have happily fed her out of an airlock. 'You're seeing double Gaius' she told him in the tone she might have used with a small child, or a Centurion. He really must be wasted, she decided.

'She can't see me Gaius' the other Cylon told him. 'I'm in your mind remember' she said in the same tone.

'So she's really here' Baltar asked the one in the red dress who nodded. 'That's terrific!' he declared. 'I can't remember where I live' he admitted, 'can I crash at your place?' he requested of Gina before nearly falling over.

'Oh for frak's sake' Gina moaned, dashing across to help him stay upright, grabbing his arm with a strength a woman of her slender build really shouldn't have.

'Thanks' Baltar told Gina gratefully as she stabilised him. 'The other one isn't much help in this kind of situation' he told her. 'Great to look at, not much good at lending an actual as opposed to metaphorical helping hand' he said. 'Though at least she stuck around' he continued, 'as soon as the count was in my fair-weather friend Zarek cleared off sharpish' he complained.

'Sharpish?' Gina repeated quizzically.

'Sorry love' Baltar apologised, 'get a few drinks into me on a maudlin day and its straight back home to the farm for me' he said. 'It means quickly' he explained, Aerelon slang often mystified outsiders. 'So did you vote for me?' he asked.

'I'm not registered' Gina replied.

'Yes I suppose not' Baltar replied, 'tell me a secret' he said, 'if every cylon in the fleet had the franchise would they have represented a voting block worth pursuing?' he asked. 'I mean including any of the ones that might not know they were cylons?'

'No' Gina told him.

'Then I'm glad that I didn't start that "Votes for Toasters" campaign I had on the back-burner' Baltar joked then hit the floor hard when Gina dropped him. 'Sorry, my bad' he said. 'That was an uncalled for racial epithet' he admitted. 'I'm basically on my knees already if an apology from this level will get me a hand up' he said hopefully.

Gina hauled him back to his feet again. 'I was hoping to have a serious conversation but there's no chance of that tonight' she said. 'I'd better take you somewhere to sleep it off' she decided, starting to half-carry him away.

'Any chance of sex?' Baltar asked hopefully.

'No, not even if you _could_ manage it' Gina replied in mild amusement, normally the very idea of having sex was so repugnant she could have never made light of the topic, the serial gang-rape at the hands of that bastard Thorne working for Cain had ensured that, but he really didn't seem like much of a sexual predator right now, just a horny overfriendly drunk.

'Bet you five million gold cubits I can' Baltar wagered.

'You don't _have_ five million gold cubits Gaius' Gina replied flatly, pushing open the door with her free hand and taking him towards the bar exit. 'There probably isn't that many in the whole fleet' she noted, most currency was paper.

'But hypothetically if I _did_ have five million gold cubits?' Baltar suggested.

Gina thought about that, it seemed a safe bet. 'If you did then I'd take the wager' she said.

'Right, excellent' Baltar responded brightly. 'So would you screw me for fifty cubits from my wallet?' he asked.

The cylon stopped walking. 'What kind of girl do you think I am?' she asked curtly.

'We've already established that, now we're negotiating a price' Baltar declared before breaking out into uproarious laughter which ended suddenly when Gina dropped him again.

The barman watched the attractive woman walk away from the former Vice-President lying sprawled on the floor. She then stopped, turned around, looked down at him and with an obviously reluctant sigh she went back, picked him up once more and helped him out through the doors. 'Looks like someone else felt sorry for him' the barman said to himself with a smile. 'I'm closing up' he announced. 'Finish your drinks and be on your way please' he asked the patrons smiling again as the viper pilot had seemingly achieved his objective, the pretty girl following him out, the two with arms wrapped around each others waists. 'That means you too Mr Lampkin' he told the lawyer whose client had left a few minutes earlier.

Romo Lampkin wandered over to the bar and pushed his sunglasses partially down his nose so the barman could see his eyes. 'Do you know who that woman with our esteemed former Vice-President was?' he asked.

'I've seen her in here a few times' the barman told him. 'Why?' he asked curiously.

'I like to take an interest in the comings and goings of the movers and shakers in the fleet' Lampkin told him. 'Best to keep your ear to the ground in my line of work' he continued, 'Scientia potentia est, knowledge is power as they say' he quoted. 'Even if that knowledge is just in whom such a famous man in the fleet spends his time coming' he said with a wry smile. 'How much do I owe you?' he asked, getting out his wallet.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_We're now up to nBSG episode 2:20 Lay Down Your Burdens (Part II). Kara Thrace and the Raptors which went to Caprica have returned to find their world turned upside down._

_Using Tylium as fuel is explained in the show to give 81% of the energy of nuclear fusion. Given that fuel for fusion is far more prevalent in the universe anyway that indicates to me that the Colonials can't have developed Fusion Reactors to anywhere near the same degree as they have in the Battletech universe. Vipers carry two or three "Kinetic Energy Weapons" depending on model, these apparently being 30mm autocannon. Although these can shred Cylon Raiders with ease they would need a lot of hits to deal with a medium or heavy BT aerospace fighter which is designed to absorb the attentions of much more powerful weaponry. On the other hand a Viper is all engines, thrusters and pilot from the looks of it, it should easily out-manoeuvre what amounts to a flying tank. TheNumber One type Humanform Cylons, also known as Cavils, were atheists as opposed to the monotheism of the rest. In some ways it made them a little less cryptic I always thought, the Sixes were practically mystic by comparison. I took the notion of the Eights being easily distracted by something shiny (or new) from the Three who made that crack about them._

_Captain George Birch was CAG on Galactica for a while, he wasn't very good at it and was demoted back to being just a Viper pilot but I thought he might be a useful military escort for President Roslin when she visited New Circe for the first time. New Circe has a full-time professional force available for deployment off-world (the SLDF 331st Royal Battlemech Division) plus a conscript army for planetary defence, with everyone having to spend two years in uniform (plus twenty years in the ready reserves afterwards). They can put a very large proportion of their population in the field within hours if required, finding a divisions worth of soldiers for a parade is easy! The Star-League was using the Nighthawk XXI Powered Armour when it collapsed although the technology was to be lost in the Inner Sphere during the Succession Wars, they weren't a patch on later Clan designs but they would be a hell of a thing for Cylon grunts to face!_

_According to the canon Battletech book "Betrayal of Ideals" at the time they left the clans (2823) the Wolverines had just developed a new assault battlemech, the 90 ton Pulverizer which mounted their new invention the "Gutbuster" Enhanced Extended-Range PPC". It's likely this weapon was the original basis for the even more powerful Clan model ERPPC seen two centuries later. Lacking the population or industrial depth to keep up with the Clans generally I've had the Wolverines fall behind in every field except Particle Projection Cannon. They already had an edge in that technology and therefore prioritised what R&D resources they had on maintaining that edge, eventually leading to the "Clanbuster LRPPC" mounted on the upgraded Pulverizer II and other vehicles. It's longer ranged and harder hitting than the latest Clan design and forms the basis of a tactical doctrine of fighting at extreme range (a good approach when you expect to be outnumbered and can't really afford to slug it out). The Wolverines canonically took the blueprints, tooling and equipment to make their advanced battle gear with them when they left the other clans incidentally. Also of note is that the Wolverines had by 2823 developed the Mercury II battlemech which again is the likely direct precursor to a Clan design, specifically the omnimechs which later terrorised the armies of the Successor States. Clan Coyote claims to have perfected the omnimech (a battlemech with modular weapon systems easily swapped out) in 2854 but it's mentioned in "Betrayal of Ideals" that they obtained the Wolverine Mercury II design and it seems probable that much of this was down to some back-engineering and gradual design tweaking of Wolverine tech!_

_Baltar lost the election needless to say. When it was revealed later in the series that he was originally a farm-boy from the relatively poor colony of Aerilon he also demonstrated his original accent (which resembles Northern English Yorkshire/Lancashire rather than the more Southern RP accent he sports normally). I've gone with the notion of the people on Aerilon using British slang, he did say "Pub" rather than bar when talking that way (it just fleshes out some differences in the colonies)._

_The lawyer Romo Lampkin was such a great character, I had to include him in the fic (he did use a latin quotation in nBSG too incidentally). I also thought the "Gina" Six should have suck around longer as her treatment hadn't just traumatised her she was in some ways humanised by it._


	5. Chapter 4

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_After several accidents, or should I say incidents with the wildlife introduced to this world by our hosts can I please ask the ladies and gentlemen of the press to once again impress on our people that they are not all as friendly as the Surat creatures a few of our citizens have already taken as pets. In particular please do not approach the Wolverines you may encounter in the forests, they can be extremely territorial, ill-tempered and vicious... this also applies to the furry ones with claws." _

**Laura Roslin – President of the Colonial Independent City-State - 3046 **

* * *

******City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE**

The little blond girl who met her at the stone steps leading to the entrance to the building had butchered the welcome she had rehearsed in Caprican but it was still extremely cute to be greeted to the school by the eight-year-old who then went to hand Roslin a small bouquet of flowers and then blushed and became all shy in front of the press. Roslin dropped down to the girl's level to take the flowers and gave her a smile as both local and colonial film crews and photographers captured the moment.

The tour of the school had obviously been choreographed as well as it could be by the staff and authorities but when dealing with hundreds of children it guaranteed not everything was going to go exactly as planned. The boys performing a scene from an ancient piece of literature called the Iliad got terribly carried away with the mock-sword-fighting and had to be separated before they hurt themselves for example, and the less said about the harmony of the school choir the better, but Roslin enjoyed herself immensely despite it all, or perhaps because of it. Lord Protector Jennifer Vaun had learned of Laura Roslin's former career and had decided this might be a good choice of visit, certainly better on the hearts and minds front than a visit to the planets battlemech factory at least, the Colonials didn't like them.

'If it wasn't for the language I could almost be back in a school back home' Roslin whispered to Tory as they stood at the back of a class where children were reciting their multiplication tables written on a blackboard.

'I hope you're not thinking about quitting and going back to your old job after I worked so hard to get you elected' Tory Foster whispered back.

'Teaching is a lot more fun and children behave less childishly than Quorum members' Roslin told her as their chaperone, a young woman who spoke passable Caprican, told them it was time to move onto the next class.

When recess came Roslin found herself outside watching children play on swings and climbing frames and hoped that soon the children of the colonies would be doing so as well. The fleet had jumped into the system two days before, and now orbited the planet, but so far only a few doctors, scientists, political dignitaries and military personnel had thus set down on New Circe. The local government had agreed for civilians to land, but only in relatively small and controllable numbers at once, and preparations were being made for the first lucky few to be able to set down and breath real air under a blue sky once again. 'You look agitated Captain Apollo' Roslin told her military escort, who was looking upwards himself.

Lee Adama decided not to once again jokily remind the president that Apollo was his call-sign not his name and that he had been promoted too and instead he sighed. 'Somewhere up there _Pegasus_ and_Galactica_ are under the guns of another ship and I'm down here' he complained.

'Playing nursemaid you mean?' Roslin replied with a smile. 'I don't think that our battlestars are under great risk of being fired upon by our hosts' she supposed.

'It just makes me anxious' Lee replied honestly, he hadn't been the commanding officer of the _Pegasus_ long but it was _his_ ship damn it.

'Would we have allowed foreign warships to orbit Caprica without having ours there to guarantee the security of the people below?' Roslin asked rhetorically. 'If the situation were reversed and that battlestar with the odd name...'

'_Zughoffer Weir_ and they call it a battle_ship_ not a battlestar' Lee interjected.

'If the Zug-whatever was over one of the pre-war colonies wouldn't it be under _our_ guns?' the President continued her point.

Lee nodded. 'It would' he conceded, 'it just bothers me that the ship is hundreds of kilometres from ours and could still deliver a broadside into them at any time from beyond the effective range of our own weapons' he said. 'By the time our cannon and railgun projectiles travelled that far they could just move out of the way' he noted.

'And you think their laser and particle-beam weaponry is powerful enough to damage or destroy our ships?' Roslin asked.

'Severely damage certainly, those particle cannon in particular chew through armour' Lee confirmed. 'And they have a larger arsenal of nuclear anti-ship missiles than we do as well' he reminded her.

'Ah but now ask yourself what could those amazing weapons do to a Cylon Basestar' Roslin told him.

Lee Adama couldn't help but now grin. 'Our warships are far more heavily armoured than Cylon capital vessels' he responded. 'It would be a sight to see' he declared, imaging the beams slicing through the Cylon hulls.

'Then just stick to thinking about that' Roslin advised. 'I'm sure the other Adama on _Galactica_ is keeping a close eye on the warships of the Thirteenth right this second' she suggested.

Lee Adama checked his watch. 'No, right now he'll be in his quarters eating lunch and reading reports' he told her. 'The XO on Galactica will be the one on the bridge fretting just like mine will be' he said with certainty.

A small ball that was being thrown around by some boys went loose when one missed his catch and rolled to a stop nearby. One of the boys called to Lee and guessing correctly the boy wanted it returned he picked it up and threw it back, one of the boys caught it and after saying something to his friends he then threw it back to Lee who caught it. 'I think they want you to join in' Roslin told him with a chuckle.

'I'm on duty and acting as escort to the President of the Thirteen Colonies' Lee replied professionally. 'My commanding officer would take a dim view and seeing as how that's also my father I'd never hear the last of it.'

'Would it help if you were acting under orders from the Commander-In-Chief?' Roslin asked him.

'Couldn't hurt' Lee replied, smiling.

'Five minutes and don't get your uniform dirty' Roslin told him, laughing out loud when he grinned turned and cannoned back the ball so the boys had to work to catch it.

Tory Foster had been talking to their assigned translator about their planned visit to the New Circe Parliament later in the afternoon. They watched the younger Adama enthusiastically playing with the boys for a while. 'Men never grow up, query affirmative?' the translator opined, adopting her normal speech patterns even in another language.

'Always seemed that way to me' Tory agreed. 'Do you have children?' she asked.

'Not yet but I plan to get married next year' the translator replied. 'Three of my sisters have children and two of my brothers' she said.

'You have big families here' Tory noted.

'We have a world to populate, it's considered a duty' the young woman replied, 'and there are tax incentives which helps' she added.

Tory nodded, they had visited a government-run kindergarten earlier that day, or rather a "Sibling Company" as the locals inexplicably called them. 'So, are all of your family... what do you call them "Instants" is it?' she asked.

The translator smiled. 'No I am, and so was my father, but Mom and most of my brothers and sisters were conceived and carried naturally like you' she replied. 'Who told you they called people from the Iron Wombs "Instants" anyway?' she queried.

'The Lord-Protector's secretary' Tory replied. 'It's not an insult is it?' she checked, hoping she hadn't been rude.

'Very mild, more like a very old joke' the translator told her. 'To make an "Instant" you put mommy and daddy in a cup and just add water' she explained with a chuckle. 'We call people like you "Accidents" because you're not planned the same way we are, you just happen' she said.

'Instants and Accidents' Tory responded, 'funny' she said, amused.

The translator leaned closer. 'Seeing as how we're in a school I'll tell you the one about the Sex Education class' she whispered. 'The teacher has just explained to the Accidents how babies are made their way and then an Instant puts his hand up and asks where he comes from' she said. 'So the teacher thinks about it and says "Well Johnny when a gene-resequencer and an Iron Womb love each other very much...'

At the military base on the outskirts of town Kara Thrace and Louanne Katrine pilots were demonstrating their Vipers to a few New Circe fighter pilots. They had hurtled around the sky for twenty minutes easily out-flying the less agile aerospace fighters of the SLDF and were now stood next to there machines in front of a hanger and a semi-circle of around twenty local fighter-jocks. 'This is the Viper Mark II' Kara began. 'It's as manoeuvrable as a jackrabbit and can flip end for end in .35 seconds' she declared, waiting for the translator with her to catch up before continuing. The man spoke lousy Caprican like they all did but he had been a pilot himself, transport shuttles rather than fighters as it happens, but he was nonetheless the best man available and had been learning the additional Caprican words related to aircraft etc. not featured in Ancient Greek.

One of the Wolverine pilots said something which caused the others to burst out laughing. Kara turned to the translator who had laughed himself. 'He said a jackrabbit is about as tough and more heavily armed too and asked if you were maybe part of some aerobatic display team' the man translated.

Kara turned and fixed the comedian with a glare. 'Tell him I was offered a place on one because I'm so good but I got thrown in the brig for decking a smart-ass instead' she responded, it was even true on both counts. If it wasn't for her temper and attitude she really could have been an instructor at the best flight-schools in the Twelve Colonies. Of course if it _had_ panned out that way she would most likely be dead by now so that wasn't much of a source of regret.

The Wolverine pilot who had made the crack about the Viper took a few steps forward and returned her glare. 'Hey Starbuck are you sure your mouth isn't making promises your ass can't keep?' Kat warned. The other pilot was much taller than Thrace and looked muscular under the form-fitting flight-suit he was wearing.

'Wouldn't be the first time' Starbuck muttered to herself under her breath as she stared down the wolverine, the seconds dragged on until eventually she adopted a frown. 'Just for the record you big genetically-engineered assholes _do_ still have to blink don't you?' she asked. 'I'm not just standing here letting my eyeballs dry out for no good reason am I?' she checked, still maintaining eye-contact with the other pilot.

'We blink' the translator confirmed before telling the others what she had asked provoking more laughter and a grin from the one she was glaring at who winked at her and said something. 'He says if you want to find out what else _has_ been enhanced he's free later.'

Starbuck rolled her eyes. 'You could hit him but he might just take that as foreplay' Kat advised.

'You might be right' Starbuck agreed as both she and the wolverine backed off. 'Think I could have taken him?' she asked, turning to Kat.

'They do say the bigger they are the harder they fall' Kat replied without commiting herself on that one.

'I once sparred with Helo' Starbuck responded flatly. 'The bigger they are the harder they hit you' she told her fellow pilot sagely, walking back towards the Viper. 'Twin thirty-millimetre kinetic-energy-weapons' she said, explaining the armament. 'You call them autocannon' she noted. 'We fire a mix of tracer, high-explosive and armour-piercing which will take out most Cylon Raiders or Heavy Raiders in a few hits' she continued. 'The Cylons use the same calibre, we've fired our ammunition through their guns before so performance wise you can judge their gear on ours' Starbuck told them. 'The Viper is a better ship than the Raider, and our pilots are usually a _lot_ better than the thing they've got wired into the cockpits, but they've always got numbers on their side and some of them _are_ pretty good.'

The wolverine pilots talked among themselves, one eventually directed a question via the translator. 'Have we fired these autocannon against an equivalent thickness of the ferro-aluminium plates our heavy fighters are armoured with?'

'Yeah' Starbuck confirmed. 'The high-explosives ruined the paintwork and the armour-piercing gave it a matt finish after we bounced around a hundred rounds off it' she said her words provoking much mirth when relayed in English. 'Just remember that your engines aren't as tough and you couldn't out-turn a Cylon Raider to save your life, which is what might be at stake at the time' she continued more seriously. 'And also think about how much tougher that armour is than your cockpit canopy' she reminded them, reaching over to tap the clear composite of the Vipers. 'Now I guess your plexiglass is better than ours but how many hits can it take before cracking and the next round leaving you a smear in the cockpit?' she asked rhetorically. 'You start thinking you're invulnerable and acting like it and I guarantee that eventually either your luck will run out or some Cylon Ace, and they _do_ have aces, will kill you.'

Kat decided to join in. 'Starbuck and me once hunted down and killed a Raider Ace we called Scar' she said. 'Slippery son-of-a-toaster, great moves and tricky too' she told them. 'They're smart, they learn fast and they'll soon find out the best way to fight you.'

Starbuck nodded. 'The Cylons say they're not chasing us any more but I don't buy it' she said. 'Before too long we'll be fighting them again and if any of you are going to be flying with me then I _am _going to teach you just how to deal with far more agile opponents than you've ever seen before' she said, then paused. 'And you're going to show _me_ where the frakking bar is around here' she added, looking around.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – New Circe Orbit – 3045CE**

Sharon Valerii slammed her fist down on the table that separated her from the man sat opposite her. 'What do you want from me?' she demanded to know as the two Colonial Marines stood ready in the cell with them began raising their weapons until then man indicated they should lower them again. 'I've told you everything I know' she said. 'Just leave me alone' she requested.

Commander Thorpe began tapping his fingers on the table. They were both sat on plain, uncovered metal chairs in the brig and after an hour he was starting to get uncomfortable. 'I know you're pissed at the Colonials, you think they killed your baby, but _we_ haven't done anything to you have we?' he asked rhetorically. 'It was my government that requested the other two Cylons not be put out of an airlock and be placed in our custody instead.'

'For all I know you've dissected them' Sharon responded. 'Or at least one of them' she added.

'Would you like to talk to them both on the radio?' Thorpe suggested. 'They're not much happier for just being in one of our cells on New Circe instead of behind bars up here but at least they're both very much alive' he said.

Sharon shook her head. 'I don't want to talk to them either' she replied. 'I don't want to talk to anyone' she declared, staring blankly at the far wall.

'Including Karl Agathon' Thorpe noted, 'or so you say.'

Sharon redirected her eyes to look directly into Thorpe's. 'I don't care about him' she said, 'I don't care about anything any more' she stated flatly.

'Liar' Thorpe replied.

'I could be over this table and snapping your neck before those Marines could pull the trigger' Sharon declared.

'I'm probably stronger and faster than you think but let's say that's true' Thorpe offered, 'why haven't you?' he asked.

'What would be the point?' Sharon replied. 'You'd be dead and then I would.'

'But if you don't care about anything what's the point of going on?' Thorpe queried, 'Suicide by Marine is just a snapped neck away right?' he continued, 'You must still have some reason not just to give up?'

'Suicide is a sin' Sharon told him.

'Faith, well that's something you've still got then' Thorpe replied with clear amusement.

Sharon glared at him. 'Are you mocking me?' she asked. 'Look at the silly machine that's got religion, oh isn't it funny?' she hissed. 'Frak you' she swore at him.

Thorpe leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and smiled. 'It's more the case that I'm trying to confirm to my own satisfaction what the psychologists we had talk to you before had to say' he replied. 'Whether it's just programming or genuine emotions they really _do_ seem to be real to you, it's not simulation you can turn on and off is it?' he asked rhetorically. 'If it was I doubt you'd be living with all that grief and frustration, you would just flip a switch and be a happy content automaton.'

'It would be easier for me and easier for you if I _was_ just a frakking calculator' Sharon replied. 'Not that the fact we're just as self-aware as you are ever stopped my kind getting dumped into vacuum' she said. 'Dying that way really hurts you know' she told him, 'it's not nearly as quick as people might think, it takes a while for your blood to start boiling because of the lack of pressure.'

'You've been spaced?' Thorpe asked curiously, 'I mean an earlier you that was resurrected?'

'Not personally but I've talked to other Cylons that have' Sharon replied, 'we compare notes, some say drowning or being burned alive is worse' she told him. 'Don't tell Roslin, she might decide to change her preferred method of execution' she added with a wry laugh.

'Gallows humour too, very human' Thorpe remarked.

'Now you're just getting insulting' Sharon responded, crossing her own arms and leaning back in a mirror of his pose.

Thorpe considered what he was about to say. 'The Colonials don't want you' he said, 'they think you're a security threat just like the other two' he said.

'Neither side thinks I'm loyal to them and they're _both_ right' Sharon replied.

'If you had something to live for, if we maybe had a hold over you I think that would change' Thorpe told her, uncrossing his arms and leaning forward putting his hands on the table.

'If you think you can threaten me and get cooperation, beat some submission into me... maybe rape me into a nice docile pet then you're dead wrong' Sharon told him forcefully.

'Actually we'd be more likely to try drugs but not when we've go something better available' Thorpe replied. 'Let me tell you a little story' he began, 'ever since we met the Colonials we've been taking blood samples, checking DNA, looking for any diseases they were carrying all that kind of thing' he said. 'Now initially we couldn't see anything much different between ourselves and the Colonials, well nothing that a few thousand years of genetic drift couldn't explain, but as we tested more and more of the people among the fleet we noticed something completely bizarre' he said.

'What?' Sharon queried.

'People from Earth have the basic Blood Groups we call A, B, AB and O, these can be rhesus positive or negative' Thorpe replied. 'About forty percent of people have Type O Blood, it's the most common group, which is why we were utterly mystified when we didn't find a single person with it among the Colonials' he said. 'Then we found out that Doctor Cottle was surprised that we _did_ have people with Type O Blood and _then_ the question was why the hell he recognised it like he did anyway.'

Sharon looked confused. 'I don't understand.'

'Type O Blood has no antigens like the others, it means that people with it are universal donors' Thorpe told her, 'after some pressure was exerted for answers by our Lord Protector it emerged that a child with Type O Blood _had_ been born in the fleet, just one, and with a _very_ interesting parentage.'

Sharon blinked. 'Hera' she said.

'Weird isn't it' Thorpe observed. 'In any case this initially caused yet another bout of short-lived paranoia that we were Cylons but once that went away we found out something else that we thought you might be even more interested in' he said then paused for effect. 'Your daughter isn't dead' he told her seriously.

For a few seconds the Cylon prisoner said nothing then she sprang up from her chair, once again causing the Marines to scramble for their weapons. 'She's _what_?' Sharon exclaimed.

'She's alive, breathing, doing the usual things babies do' Thorpe replied. 'You thought they killed her, they didn't, they just took her away and pretended she had died' he said. 'They were too scared of what the revelation of a successful human/cylon hybrid would mean' he said. 'Given what we've learned of the Colonials they might have been right, it could have caused chaos amongst all those religious whackjobs and luddites you have around here' he opined, his views slightly coloured by a few run-ins with people from the more fundamentalist colonies like Gemenon and Sagittaron.

Sharon sank back into her chair, limp. 'Hera's alive' she said, her voice barely above a whisper. It was hard to believe or accept it.

'Right' Thorpe confirmed, 'and now she is under the guardianship of the Star League in Exile' he told her. 'President Roslin agreed she would be safer with us' he said, not mentioning the exact circumstances under which she had done so and that the agreement had been made under considerable duress.

'I want to see her' Sharon demanded, sitting bolt upright.

'Tricky, what with her being down on New Circe and you being up here' Thorpe replied.

Sharon fixed him with a glare. 'Take me to her now' she growled.

'No, you've got to _earn_ it' Thorpe told her, getting up from his chair.

'I'll tell you anything you want to know' Sharon told him. 'Please, let me see my baby' she pleaded.

'Oh you'll tell us everything we want to know I'm sure but that's _not_ how you have to earn it' Thorpe replied as the door opened and two men and a woman wearing what Sharon recognised as SLDF uniforms entered, the Colonial Marines leaving as they were replaced.

Sharon looked at the three newcomers, even the woman was much taller and more muscular than she was. 'What the frak is going on?' she asked.

'We're testing the limits of your strength, finding out how tough you are' Thorpe told her. 'You beat these three members of our Special Forces company in unarmed combat, without killing any of them though, and you get your daughter' he said, backing off. 'They'll put the furniture to one side before you start, wouldn't want to damage any of it' he said with a smirk.

'You bastard' Sharon hissed at him. 'How do I know you aren't lying?' she asked reasonably.

'You don't' Thorpe told her flatly. 'Can you take the chance I'm not?'

As the furniture was moved away clearing the centre of the room Sharon sized up her opponents. 'I'm doing this' she said, 'I've got to do this' she told herself.

'Go' Thorpe said, leaning back against a wall to watch.

She was strong and fast, faster and with far more power in her slender form than she should have, but up against three genetically enhanced soldiers from the elite of the 331st Division the Cylon known as Sharon Valerii was outclassed. She broke two noses, several ribs but in the end they beat her down with punches and kicks only for her to drag herself to her feet and fight on. Blood streaming down her face, covered in bruises she kept fighting, managing to knock one of the men unconscious with a right cross that broke half the knuckles on her right hand.

Sharon went down in a heap a second time but screaming she somehow forced herself up once again only to be floored within seconds although only after shattering the kneecap of the other man with a kick she put everything she had left behind. He hit the deck when she did, howling in pain as she coughed up blood and tried to stand again herself.

The female soldier kicked her in the ribs. 'Stay down' Thorpe advised.

'No' Sharon replied only to be kicked again in the gut hard enough to leave her gasping for breath.

'You're done' Thorpe told her, 'game over, you lose the Trial of Possession for your daughter' he declared, walking over and kneeling down beside her. 'Damn impressive fight you put up though' he continued admiringly. 'I'd bet that two to one you could have won easily' he said, reaching down to take her arm and pulling it towards him.

'What the frak are you doing?' Sharon coughed out.

Commander Thorpe put something around her wrist. 'We don't do this very often' he told her. 'Last time was a load of pirates we ran into on a supply run back to the Inner Sphere' he said. 'Sharon Valerii' he said in a grand tone of voice. 'You are now a Bondswoman of Clan Wolverine' he declared. 'The bondcord around your wrist signifies you were defeated in battle and are now property of the Clan' he told her.

'I'm a slave?' Sharon asked, 'you can't make me a frakking _slave_' she declared, trying to stand but failing.

'Not so much an actual slave as more like a Prisoner of War that has to earn their keep' Thorpe explained, 'and it's not necessarily permanent either, you can be freed later' he advised her. 'In the meantime in the other clans you would be treated much like one of the Labour Caste so I guess we need to find an appropriate job for you' he said, rising to his feet.

'Kiss my ass' Sharon snarled up at him.

Thorpe laughed. 'You probably won't mind the job I have in mind too much' he responded. 'Bondswoman, there is a small child that needs looking after' he told her. 'You will do so to the best of your ability in the service of the Clan' he ordered.

Sharon stared at him. 'Hera?' she asked in shock and disbelief.

'We're bastards but we're not _complete_ bastards' Thorpe told her, it felt good to do something nice for someone, he decided, a warm sense of satisfaction in his heart that he had done his good deed for the day as he looked down at the beaten, bleeding young mother. 'It's a good thing we've got first-rate medical technology' he noted, now looking now at the state of the three soldiers instead. 'Damn, I promised that Army Major I'd give them back in good condition when I borrowed them' he recalled with a grimace.

* * *

**Colonial One – New Circe Orbit – 3045CE**

'This is only a preliminary offer that the Lord Protector instructed me to make' Commander Thorpe told the Colonial President and her legal advisor, the State Prosecutor Didi Cassidy, 'but she doesn't think it likely that our Parliament would veto any move towards not only allowing settlement of the refugees on the Twelve Colonies on New Circe but also granting you independence' he said. 'An area in excess of ten thousand square kilometres would be ceded by our government to your ownership and sole control as an independent nation' he told her. 'We suggest this region north of our capital' he said, indicating it on the map he had spread out on the table where the Quorum usually sat. 'Once you clear some of the forest you should be able to support your own population through farming, there are several rivers and you have access to the sea' he noted. He had his own legal advisor beside him, a colonial his government had hired to help them understand the intricacies of the legal system of the Twelve Colonies but so far Romo Lampkin hadn't said much, he seemed to be mainly sizing up Roslin and Cassidy from behind his shades.

Roslin looked at the map. 'Ten thousand square kilometres' she repeated. 'It sounds generous until you realise that this continent is approximately sixty _million_ square kilometres in size' she replied.

'Yes but it's _ours_' Thorpe responded. 'There's only fifty thousand or so of you' he pointed out, you could all fit comfortably in a small city less than five kilometres across and not even be particularly packed in' he continued. 'We're offering you four-hundred times that much land and we'll help you get yourselves established.'

'This really amounts to not much more than a City-State' Roslin said, pointing at the map.

'Your people won't be penned in, if they want to live or work outside your borders they can, it's just that if they do then they'll be bound by the laws of _our_ society not _yours_' Thorpe told her. 'In the same way any citizen of New Circe will become subject to your laws if they enter your territory' he said. 'We would however insist that where our people are involved that you _do_ stick to your own laws and don't start ignoring them at whim' he added seriously, knowing that Roslin would know what he was getting at. 'We would expect due process under the Articles of Colonisation to be adhered to at all times or else we would have little compunction in intervening' he declared.

'Intervening?' Cassidy queried.

'We'd have battlemechs and infantry marching over your border before the day was out' Thorpe explained without a hint of obfuscation, he was a soldier not a diplomat or lawyer.

Laura Roslin was starting to wonder if she had badly misjudged these people, at first glance they were outwardly so civilised, a society that clearly loved its children, that revered public service and intellectualism, but scratch the surface and it was becoming apparent there was something else very different underneath. A violent, aggressive martial culture with its own rules of conduct seemed to quietly coexist with mainstream New Circe society in parallel, overlapping yet still distinct. It was almost schizophrenic in a way she decided. 'You talk of laws and due process?' she responded incredulously. 'According to Doctor Cottle you half-beat that woman... I mean Cylon to death' she stated.

Thorpe reached for a glass of water. 'We were acting fully within our laws' he replied. 'Which is, I have to remind you, more than _you_ did where her child was concerned' he noted. That was why the Lord Protector was so strident regarding the Colonials actually holding to their own legal principles if they were going to settle on New Circe, she and nobody else would accept the selective application of laws decided upon by politicians.

'I never accepted that piece of third-rate legal argument you had this damn lawyer you hired present the day before yesterday' Roslin responded, glaring at the shyster Lampkin sat beside Thorpe. 'I only agreed to turn over the Cylon and her child to you because of the possible repercussions to the fleet if the story got out without being properly managed' she said.

'Colonial Statute Law and Precedent fully supported our position' Lampkin responded drily, 'as I'm sure your own counsel confirmed' he said, directing a smile in the direction of the State Prosecutor. The four of them were otherwise alone, Roslin having sent Tory to organise some food, it looked like it could be a long evening.

Cassidy turned to Roslin. 'It could be interpreted that way' she confirmed grudgingly as she had done before in a written opinion when asked to look over Lampkin's arguments.

'And what other way could it be?' Lampkin asked in amusement, ever since he had been approached by that Academic Sundquist saying the Government of New Circe was looking for independent legal advice related to Colonial Law he had been enjoying the limelight immensely. They had put him on retainer for what he hoped was a generous sum although no exchange rate between Colonial and New Circe currency had yet been established. 'We freely accept that the Cylon Known as Sharon Valerii is not a Colonial Citizen and hence has no rights as such' he said, 'however the state had no right to arbitrarily take her from her _father_ without due process.'

'The legal status of the child Hera is by no means clear cut' Cassidy responded quickly.

Lampkin removed his usually ever-present sunglasses for effect. 'Prior to the Articles of Colonisation and the unification of the Twelve Colonies under one government the citizens of one world were already having children with people from others' he replied. 'There are several legal precedents that confirm that citizenship was automatically bestowed on the offspring of any such pairing, if a man from Caprica had a child with a woman from Tauron then that child was deemed a Caprican citizen in law even if her mother wasn't' he said. 'The fact that Sharon Valerii was not a citizen has no bearing whatsoever, _Karl Agathon_ is one which automatically means his child is too' he declared. 'Now I respect you very much Madam President' he told Roslin, 'I actually voted for you' he continued, 'but you grossly violated the rights of _two_ citizens of the Twelve Colonies and you'd find it hard to find argue a convincing case in law otherwise' he said confidently.

'Genetic testing confirms that Hera is the biological daughter of both of them' Thorpe pointed out, 'your testing as well as ours' he added.

Romo Lampkin looked Roslin in the eyes. 'You've never had children have you?' he asked rhetorically. 'I have' he told her. 'I had two daughters myself, they were on Gemenon when the bombs fell' he continued in a surprisingly dispassionate manner, 'and I will tell you honestly that taking someone's child away from them is the most heinous crime I can imagine and if you think I couldn't have made a jury feel the same way then you must be taking Chamalla again' he stated, putting his sunglasses back on.

'This is all beside the point' Thorpe interjected. 'Hera is now on New Circe and the admittedly battered Bondswoman Sharon Valerii will be reunited with her very soon' he said. 'The Lord Protector suggests that if you don't want to end up involved in a very messy situation you might want to transfer a Colonial Officer into a temporary assignment with the SLDF, an exchange program with one of our military posted to Galactica in return' he said. 'We thought one Karl Agathon might be an ideal candidate from your side.'

'Be honest do you want him around when he finds out anyway, because I think I can guarantee he will' Lampkin told the President. 'I'm prepared to treat this all as a matter of client confidentiality and never mention any of it' he said. '_If_ a father gets his daughter back' he added.

Laura Roslin narrowed her eyes. 'I don't like being pushed into things' she said. 'I tend to start pushing back' she declared with more than a little venom.

'In politics like the law, things don't run smoothly' Lampkin remarked.

'And talking of laws we think yours are insane' Cassidy told Thorpe. 'I read through a translation of one of your lawbooks' she said.

'Something clan related no doubt' Thorpe replied, 'I can see how an outsider might think so' he conceded. 'For that matter my wife told me if I went ahead with that Trial of Grievance with my neighbour over him moving that boundary fence she'd divorce me so they're not exactly considered immutable Holy Writ among my people either' he told them with a chuckle. 'It's mainly a regular military thing these days, we're more traditional, very few civilians use anything but the regular courts under Star League Law.'

'You settle disputes in what amounts to Trial by Combat' Cassidy said, still amazed that any advanced society would do anything so primitive. 'Nobody has done anything like that in any of the Twelve Colonies in centuries.'

'It hardly ever happens on New Circe either, it's just sometimes you want to take matters into your own hands' Thorpe replied. 'You know for a while we abandoned clan traditions and rules entirely' he told them, 'Sarah McEvedy wanted us to' he said, 'but then we later learned that the other clans believed they had wiped us out, they made it a crime to even speak our name and would have us erased from history entirely' he continued, 'well we weren't going to oblige so after a referendum it was decided we would once again be a clan and that we wouldn't allow ourselves to ever forget who we are' he said. 'Now every day is a little victory against Nicolas Kerensky and his brain-dead worshippers because their Trial of Annihilation failed and Clan Wolverine lives on.'

'But they don't even _know_' Roslin pointed out.

'Not yet' Thorpe replied with a grin, 'but they'll find out the hard way in time' he added with certainty.

'Can I ask a question that's been bothering me' Lampkin now addressed Thorpe. 'If somehow the cylon had won that fight would you have really given her the child?' he asked curiously.

'Yes' Thorpe replied, 'we obey our laws, live by a code' he said. 'If you let that slip even a little for expediencies sake then what are you?' he asked rhetorically. 'Principles might have to be elastic sometimes by necessity, if you try and live by absolutes the result can be absurdity, but we would have never done what you did Madam President, even if the Lord Protector herself ordered it' he said.

'I'm not getting lectured on ethics by you or anyone' Roslin told him angrily. 'I did what I had to do under the circumstances.'

'Because being the last survivors of your people pursued by a genocidal enemy excuses playing fast and loose with your laws and morals does it?' Thorpe asked. 'Sorry, that might wash with other people you might have run into instead but for _us_ it doesn't' he said. 'Been there done that, stayed true to our core beliefs' he stated. 'We can sympathise and we do, we've _been_ the hunted tribe, and we don't even ask you to live like we do to stay on our world but we don't think it's unreasonable to expect you to live as your own moral standards and legal traditions dictate.'

Romo Lampkin sighed. 'If we can't do that then we're doomed regardless of whether the Cylons wipe us out or not' he said.

'We know you'll have to discuss this with the Quorum and your own military' Thorpe told Roslin, he suspected it would take an age to thrash out the specifics, politicians were like that. 'As for the latter the Lord Protector fully accepts that your nation will have its own armed forces based on and above New Circe although she formally requests cooperation between us at all levels because we both have enemies and I doubt any of them would discriminate if they ran into us both here together' he said.

The rest of the discussion went smoothly enough by comparison, Tory Foster returning shortly having arranged refreshments, at the end the two lawyers left but Roslin asked Thorpe to stay behind a little longer to discuss another matter. As well as the proposal for the survivors of the Twelve Colonies to settle on New Circe Jennifer Vaun had also suggested another scheme which needed to be agreed, one that could be put into practice much sooner. New Circe wanted to mount a joint expedition back along the path the refugees had come, first to Kobol and then onto the Twelve Colonies themselves. The Cylons claimed to have left but that needed to be verified, there might conceivably even be other survivors to be rescued and there was certainly a massive amount of technology and priceless resources to be salvaged.

It could simply be a trap of course, the Cylons waiting to spring it on any large group of humans that returned home with the Colonies as the bait. The only saving grace to the situation was that the mice tempted by the cheese definitely wouldn't be expected to be toting Particle Projection Cannon.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The Wolverines don't want the Colonials to leave in case they lead the Cylons closer towards the Inner Sphere so they're trying a charm offensive. As a former teacher having Laura Roslin visit a school would look good among the fleet and hopefully demonstrate that New Circe isn't such a bad place despite the big robots and the lab-created freaks. The Zughoffer Weir is a McKenna Class Battleship roughly the same size as Galactica (they're both just over 1400 metres long). It mounts a lot of heavy anti-capital-ship hardware which drastically outranges the two colonial battlestars, you can see what one looks like on the prologue page of this fic along with a rendering of a Kirghiz Fighter. In the mainstream clans those who come from the Iron Wombs are called "Trueborns" and those born naturally are "Freeborns" (Trashborns and Freebirths being the respective pejoratives). The Wolverines don't have quite the same divisive attitudes but I thought they would have equivalent labels hence "Instants" and "Accidents" telling jokes about each other. Louanne Katraine was trained by Starbuck eventually becoming her wingman. I thought they'd make an interesting pair to be assigned the job of showing the wolverine aerospace fighter pilots Colonial and Cylon air-combat tactics and capabilities._

_They wanted to see just how much fight was in a humanform Cylon and found out that it was a lot with the right motivation. In the Clans you can fight a Trial of Possession and it this case it was forHera. Sharon lost but as a defeated foe she could now be taken as a Bondswoman, the symbol of this is a woven bracelet placed around the wrist. The New Circe Wolverines still use some Clan Customs, although some they have abandoned utterly, others they have modified. Hera having a Blood Type which is unique amongst the Colonials comes from the show. It's describes as being strange but the reasons given for it being so actually describe Type O Blood which is the most common in fact._

_Didi Cassidy was the prosecutor in Baltar's trial. I made the assumption that she must have been one of the top government lawyers in the fleet to get that job so having her brought in as a legal advisor by Roslin after the New Circe government hired Lampkin didn't seem too unlikely. Between the clanner attitude to law and tradition and the Star League idealism I see New Circe as being a society that is very law-abiding even if some of their laws (the clan holdovers) would seem more than a little strange or barbaric to others. I really doubt that what Roslin did regarding Hera was legal, Colonial Law and Politics from what we saw of it wasn't all that authoritarian and the President couldn't legally ignore due process (if she had that level of unquestioned overriding legal authority Baltar wouldn't have gotten a trial, he would have gotten a quick trip out of the airlock). Giving the Colonials their own small country actually relieves New Circe of quite a headache in terms of dealing with all the people with weird ideas and beliefs. The planet is incredibly underpopulated anyway so why not hand over a few thousand square kilometres of trees? I couldn't see the two societies smoothly and seemlessly integrating, they're too different, so here they'll co-exist instead._

_I hope you're enjoying the Fic so far and that for the undoubted majority of readers that aren't familiar with Battletech you're following it all okay. Hopefully the author's notes and the hyperlinked references to further information if required are helping._


	6. Chapter 5

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_A warship has a soul, if it has done its duty, kept its crew alive and has met its enemies head-on again and again without ever letting you down you can feel the pride running through the decks and bulkheads as much as you can the people aboard, it's palpable, but a warship can be stained with dishonour too." _

**Admiral William Adama – 3047CE**

* * *

******Battlestar Galactica – New Circe Orbit – 3045 CE**

Saul Tigh raised his eyebrows. 'They just got up and walked out?' he asked. 'All of them at once?'

Admiral Adama nodded as he looked around the CIC for a brief moment before returning his attention to his XO. 'From what Starbuck told me on the wireless the aggressor squadron sent down from_Galactica_ were already in the base canteen eating lunch, and trading normal fighter-pilot BS with the locals as best they could given the language barrier, when the pilots from _Pegasus_ walked in' he said. 'The New Circe pilots see their _Pegasus _shoulder patches and then every one of them gets up without a word and leaves.'

'Do we at least know why?' Tigh asked Adama.

'Starbuck asked around' Adama replied, 'they won't socialise with anyone from _Pegasus_ because the story spread about how when it was under Cain's command the ship and crew abandoned the civilians they found to the cylons' he said. 'They consider the _Pegasus _and anyone who was on it at the time disgraced.'

'Disgraced?' Tigh repeated.

'They lost their honour' Adama explained. 'The highest duty of a soldier is to put themselves between the civilians and the enemy' he said. 'Leaving them behind was bad enough but stripping their FTL Drives and conscripting anyone useful, threatening to execute the families of anyone that refused to come along, basically means that the average Wolverine wouldn't piss on a crewman from the Beast if he was on fire.'

Tigh frowned. 'Gods know Bill I can see their point but the _Pegasus _crew were acting under orders.'

'Starbuck said much the same to the locals' Adama told him, 'the reply was that Cain should have been shot dead on the spot for issuing the order' he said.

'Easier said than done' Tigh opined.

'They're a warrior culture, they hold to an idea of chivalry that's been driven deep into their psyches' Adama replied. 'I heard a story about their own exodus two centuries ago' he said, 'during their time raiding worlds in the Draconis Combine every single one of them that faced capture after a skirmish went badly committed suicide rather than be taken prisoner' he told Tigh. 'That's the reason the Inner Sphere Successor States still have no idea who they were' he continued. 'They believe Saul, they believe _hard_' he said.

'Crazy bastards' Tigh responded, at least they had the courage of their convictions though he thought to himself. 'So what do they think of _Galactica_then?' he asked curiously.

'_Galactica_put herself between the civilian ships and the cylons at the Battle of Ragnar Anchorage to defend them until they could jump out' Adama replied, 'Duty done, honour intact.'

'Good because it would be _my_duty to have decked any of them that badmouthed my boat' Saul Tigh declared. 'So you're heading down there yourself later then?' he asked.

Adama nodded. 'I've got a meeting with my opposite number Admiral Franks' he confirmed. 'We're supposed to thrash out the plan to head back to the Colonies' he said. 'It'll be _Galactica_leading the expedition, hope you're ready to go home' he said.

'That's a lot of jumps even if we head in a straight line' Tigh noted. Their journey since leaving their home system Cyrannus had been anything but direct, they had deliberately tried to throw off their pursuers by not following anything like a predictable course so they weren't nearly as far away as they could have been, but it was still a good trek to the Twelve Colonies from here.

'We're getting a new navigational computer from New Circe which should push out the Red-Line, we'll be doing twenty-plus light-years a jump each time and it'll calculate them _fast_' Adama told him. The vast majority of jumps they had made since the fall of the colonies had been less than a quarter of that, although the record was thirty when they jumped away from Ragnar. The Cylons had longer-ranged, more-efficient drives _and_better computers so they could jump even further safely, but the ability to perform repeated jumps of over twenty light-years in quick succession was a major step-forward for a Battlestar.

'And what if the Cylons hit this fancy new computer with a virus?' Saul asked doubtfully.

'It wouldn't be integrated with any of our systems, it'll just spit out the numbers on a display for us to punch in ourselves manually, and the programming language should be too alien for the cylons to interface with, even if all the fancy firewalls they say it'll have they have don't work' Adama replied. 'Worst case scenario we pull the plug and we've still got Gaeta over there to get us back' he said indicating the Tactical Officer sat at his post nearby. 'It'll take a lot longer though.'

Saul Tigh wanted a drink, he had managed to get a couple of bottles of some local moonshine called skogsstjärnan brought up from New Circe in one of the supply shuttles. It wasn't exactly ambrosia, and he was damned if he could pronounce it, but it wasn't too bad, or at least Ellen hadn't complained too much yet anyway. 'I hope we'll be testing this new NavComp properly before we go skipping back to Kobol' he said, that was going to be their first rest-stop, testing the waters for Cylon surprises before going deeper.

'Plenty of test jumps and calculations run side by side before we start trusting it' Adama reassured him. 'It'll be a joint mission, as well as half a dozen raptors and two squadrons of vipers we'll be taking twenty-four of their heavy aerospace fighters aboard, our flight decks should handle them okay.'

'Well they sure as hell won't fit in a viper launch tube' Tigh said in amusement, they each massed twice what a raptor did but could be launched and retrieved the same way. With only a small number of raptors and half her maximum complement of eighty fighters on _Galactica_, there should be room for the things at least he agreed.

'We're aiming for heading out in three weeks' Adama told him, 'that's enough time for the aggressor squadrons we've provided to show the Wolverines how to deal with Cylon Raiders and we'll already have a little experience with joint ops thanks to the mining operations' he said.

'Yeah I heard they found tylium a few light years away' Tigh noted.

'New Circe has been scouting the local systems for decades' Adama said, 'they told us the ones with the largest asteroid belts and on the third try a raptor from _Pegasus_ struck lucky in a belt two jumps away' he told him. 'The mining ships _Monarch_ and _Majahual_ should be pulling ore out of there within a couple of days, the Wolverine destroyer _Yukon_ will be at a staging area half way between New Circe and the mining operation along with the refinery _Daru Mozu_' he explained, 'cargo ships shuttle the ore to the refinery and when she's full she'll head back to New Circe and the other refinery _Hitei Kan_will take her place' he said. 'We'll have all the ships in the fleet fully fuelled inside a month and then we can start building up a reserve.'

'We're trusting the security of our ships to the locals?' Tigh queried.

'We'll have a raptor in the system with the mining ships and a half-squadron of vipers with the _Yukon_' Adama replied. As well as the fifty of its own fighters the destroyer/carrier held there were additional bays on the _Yukon_ that could carry up to five two-hundred ton vessels. That was more than enough room to house a raptor and ten vipers although seeing as how they were going to be from _Pegasus_the colonials temporarily assigned to the Wolverine warship might find themselves being ostracised by the crew Adama wondered, oh well they were soldiers and could damn well suck it up he decided.

'Fine by me then, and that all sounds good for getting us some tylium, but what about the metal we need for vipers too?' Tigh asked. 'We need to replace our losses, we're training new pilots all the time but we need more machines to put them in too' he stated.

'New Circe has its own mining ships operating in this system, there's no tylium here but plenty of orbiting rocks with other raw materials' Adama replied. 'They say they'll provide whatever we need so we can get our factory ships running to capacity again, fix the fleet and get the production line on _Pegasus_churning out vipers at a better pace' he said. 'At least we've got some breathing space now' he observed, 'we can spend longer training the new pilots.'

'If we'd had even another week to get them up to speed we'd have lost less rookies' Tigh agreed wholeheartedly, they had been forced by necessity to throw inexperienced and under-trained pilots at the cylons and it had cost them dear. 'Nice of the Wolvies to give us some metal, so what's their price for this act of generosity?' he asked wryly.

'Tech transfer as ever' Adama replied with a shrug. 'They want access to anything good we can salvage from the Colonies and any additional research we have on the Cylons' he said, 'they want it so bad they can practically taste it.'

'I might have been known to drool over their directed-energy-weapons a little myself' Tigh responded with a laugh.

'We're getting them' Adama told him. 'Well not ones for capital ships for now but enough lasers to sling one under all our vipers' he said. 'It'll add about a ton of weight to our birds and it won't have the rate of fire theirs do because our viper powerplants will take longer to charge the capacitors but it should be a one-shot kill on a Raider' he continued. 'The first prototype is already being worked on I'm going to get Chief Tyrol to go down take a look and help them out if he can.'

'Adding an extra ten-percent of mass to a viper will reduce her manoeuvrability Bill' Tigh pointed out. 'Add a full missile loadout as well and she'll be sluggish' he warned.

'If it proves to be too much we can offset it at least partially by pulling one of the guns and its ammo off a Mark VII' Adama replied, the more advanced model viper carried three 30mm kinetic-energy-weapons as opposed to the two of the older Mark II . 'Two guns were always enough for us in the old days right?' he asked with a smile.

'Yeah they're spoiled these days' Tigh agreed, 'and frakking lasers now too' he continued, rolling his eyes. 'When I joined up it was a bow and arrow and if you were lucky the arrow had a point on it.'

'New-fangled technology' Adama responded dismissively, playing along with his XO. 'We still threw rocks back when _I_went to flight school' he said. 'And we didn't have these fancy air-tight helmets so if you went into space you had to hold your breath the whole mission' he declared.

Tigh sighed. 'And I'll bet if you told nuggets that today they wouldn't believe you' he said, shaking his head sadly and trying to keep a straight face.

Adama nodded his agreement. 'I do miss those clockwork Centurions though' he responded. 'All you had to do was wait for them to run down and then just push them over' he said. 'If they were all lined up it was like dominos...' he continued then couldn't any more because he started laughing triggering Tigh to do so as well.

Gaeta and everyone else in the CIC ignored them but they wished they were in on whatever joke it was that had caused the normally stern Old Man and the usually less than cheerful XO to regress several decades in age.

* * *

**Franklin Hallis Airbase – New Circe – 3045CE**

Squatting underneath with one of the access panels already opened Chief Tyrol reached into the guts of the Viper trying to tease out the power cable being threaded through the airframe. 'I can't get it' he said after trying for a while. 'Cally, you try' he ordered, pulling his arm back out and moving aside to let the other technician attempt it.

Specialist Calandra Henderson dropped down under the viper and shuffled into position. Her jaw wasn't wired shut any more, and most of the bruises were long gone, but being in such close proximity to Tyrol was unsettling even if she had accepted that it wasn't really the Chief she knew and cared about who had beaten her senseless. 'It should be somewhere alongside the avionics lines right?' she asked reaching in.

'Yeah, there's not much extra room in there but it was the best way to run the cable back to the generator' Tyrol confirmed. A Viper Mark VII needed a fair amount of electrical power to run its fly-by-wire avionics systems, and the DRADIS in particular required plenty of wattage, but in order to get juice into the new laser weapon they were fitting they needed to run another cable through the fighter and it was proving slightly problematic so far.

Seelix the other deckhand Tyrol had brought with him down to New Circe was watching with a grin as the girl managed to get her entire arm into the viper up to her shoulder. 'Hey Cally, I don't know about you wanting to be a dentist but from the looks of it you'd have made a great farmyard vet' she said. 'I can just see you with you arm up a cow's ass' she joked.

'Frak you' Cally responded. 'Got it!' she exclaimed, taking hold of the cable and pulling it through. Being "small and skinny" as she had been labelled, though she much preferred being called "petite and slender", gave her the ability to get deeper into the guts of a Viper or Raptor than most of the other knuckle-draggers. 'All yours Chief' she told Tyrol, giving him the end of the cable.

'Good work' Tyrol told her and moved to the next stage of the process while she got clear. Once he had the new line connected up to the generator they could finally get the laser bolted on and try out the firing controls he and Seelix had already installed in the cockpit.

Getting out from under the Viper Cally yawned and stretched out, they had been working in this damn hanger for hours already and her body-clock was off. It was only early afternoon here but she was still on Fleet time which was approaching midnight. She looked around, casting her eyes over the two other Vipers that were waiting to be done next and the pair of what they called Visigoth aerospace fighters, sixty-ton machines that were classified as medium by the locals. A Wolverine ground-crew were working on one of them and as Cally and Seelix watched a New Circe pilot wearing one of their special flightsuits came over to the Visigoth under repair and judging by the volume and the tone of his voice he began bawling them out. 'I can't understand a damn word but I'm willing to bet that pilot is giving those knuckledraggers shit for not being able to achieve the frakking impossible' Seelix observed.

'Yeah' Cally agreed as the guy she guessed was the crew chief working on the Visigoth got right up into the pilots face and started yelling back. Older more experienced Non-Coms could often get away with saying just about anything they liked to junior officers as long as they added "Sir" at the end, though of course that depended on whether they were absolutely sure they were right if higher ranks ever got involved in the situation. They might get a reprimand for mouthing off at a lieutenant but the pilot would likely get serious crap in turn from his own CO too if the NCO could demonstrate their case. 'Officers are jerks' she opined.

'I'll choose to forget I heard that' a familiar voice interjected causing Cally to grimace before she and Seelix span around to find Starbuck stood nearby with a grin on her face. 'Aren't you finished yet Chief?' the pilot asked.

'It'll be ready when it's ready Sir' Tyrol replied patiently, not bothering to get out from under the viper.

'I want to be in this thing shooting up some targets tomorrow, it _will_be working by then right?' Starbuck asked.

'I'm not giving a cast-iron guarantee but it _should_be' Tyrol told her cautiously. 'Everything works on the bench and we've nearly got the hard stuff done' he continued. 'Actually bolting the laser to the airframe is the easy part' he said.

'So it'll just be another button on the joystick?' Starbuck checked with Seelix, she was the electronics and avionics expert.

'Yes Sir' Seelix confirmed. 'I've put in an LED that lights up when the laser is charged and ready' she explained. 'It was the quickest and easiest way to do it, later on we'll probably put in a proper display' she said. 'Just remember that the more power you're pulling from the generator for other things like active DRADIS sweeps the longer it'll take to charge' the technician advised.

Starbuck grinned. 'Little light comes on to tell me the big bright light is ready' she replied, 'I like it' she said. 'I hope there's a safety too' she added. Kara Thrace prided herself on flying with a devil-may-care attitude but she didn't want to accidentally zap one of her own squadron, or worse have a nugget do that to _her_.

'There's a big switch labelled "SAFE" when it is' Seelix confirmed, it was best not to put in anything complicated that might confuse the pilots she knew. 'Flip it and it says "LASER".'

'Did they show you what the beam from that sucker would do to a piece of metal equivalent to the hull of a Heavy Raider?' Starbuck asked rhetorically, 'might as well not been there, burned right through.'

'It won't instantly shatter a cylon bird like a burst from a KEW will though Sir' Tyrol spoke up from under the viper. 'It's not a guaranteed one-shot kill unless you hit something important or trigger a secondary explosion' he noted.

'Plenty of tylium and ammo to set off in a raider Chief' Starbuck replied, 'not to mention the engines and we know how packed in all that wiring and organic crap is' she said. It was highly unlikely a cylon fighter would survive a hit from one of those lasers and still be in the fight, certainly for the smaller standard raiders it would be a freak occurrence at best.

'Just warning you that the laser firing control isn't an automatic "I Win" button Sir' Tyrol told her seriously. 'Okay, another couple of minutes and we can splice this into the main bus coming out of the generator' he said to himself more quietly.

Cally still felt awkward after her "Officers are jerks" comment. 'So how are things coming with the aggressor training Sir?' she asked Starbuck, trying to make amends as much as she was conversation.

'We're running rings around the Wolvies in dog-fighting but the camera-guns say they're eating us alive, especially when closing in' the pilot replied. 'The lasers and PPC's are bad enough but the simulated effects of those LB-X Autocannon are a nightmare to deal with' she noted.

'Those are the ones that act like big shotguns right?' Seelix asked.

Starbuck nodded. 'Because of the dispersal pattern you have to keep way off-boresight to guarantee not to get hit' she said. 'I'll say one thing, those tight regular formations raiders like to fly in will go right out of the window after the first couple of times they come up against these people' she predicted. 'They'll be shredded by the squadron full until they fly loose and disperse.'

Seelix grinned. 'Almost makes you feel sorry for the frakkers doesn't it Sir?' she asked rhetorically.

'Nope' Starbuck replied, grinning back.

Cally laughed then she saw a group of people entering the hanger and quickly looked down at the floor. 'They're back again' she moaned.

Starbuck turned and found herself looking at four guys wearing SLDF uniform, talking amongst themselves and periodically looking in the direction of the Colonials. 'What's going on?' she asked.

'This is the third time they've been around in the last hour' Cally said, 'they keep staring at me' she complained.

Seelix laughed. 'Cally has a fan club' she told Starbuck. 'At first we thought she was being paranoid but when it started to get obvious we asked one of the translators about it' she said.

'I'm exotic' Cally said, her cheeks blushing bright red.

'You're what?' Starbuck replied, raising an eyebrow.

'That was the word the translator used' Seelix told her. 'Have you noticed that basically all of the women on this planet look... well a lot like you?' she asked.

'Hot?' Starbuck replied in amusement.

'Athletic, plus tall and usually blond' Seelix replied, she was going to add muscular but wisely opted not to.

'Like I said, hot' Starbuck maintained.

'Here you're sorta average' Seelix told her apologetically. 'It's girls that look like Cally that aren't anywhere to be seen' she said. 'Too much genetic engineering aimed at producing seven-foot tall infantry I guess.'

'He said I had unusual exotic looks' Cally repeated herself in more detail. 'I hate being stared at.'

Starbuck couldn't help but burst out laughing. 'They don't think you're a freak, they're looking because they think you're cute' she said.

'I told her that' Tyrol agreed.

'It's embarrassing' Cally declared. 'I just wish they'd get lost.'

Starbuck looked at the four guys again, three of them now seemed to be remonstrating with the other one who now looked almost as awkward as Cally. Eventually with two of them pushing him in the direction of the Colonials he started to wander over slowly. 'We're getting a visitor' she said.

'Aww crap' Cally moaned as he approached.

'He's one of their mechwarrior guys, I recognise some of their unit insignia now' Starbuck told the others. They did combined-arms training in the area next to the airbase, you could hear the explosions iin the distance some days. 'He's a second lieutenant too according to his shoulder bars if you're interested' she added.

The wolverine mechwarrior looked nervous as hell as he approached sheepishly. Starbuck said hello to him in his own language, she had picked up a little English during the weeks she had been here, but to her surprise he replied in Caprican. 'Hi' he said, before turning to address Cally directly. 'I'm Lieutenant...' he began then stopped, 'I'm Geoff Cale' he introduced himself less formally. 'You're called Cally right?' he asked in reasonable Caprican. 'I asked someone' he explained when Cally seemed surprised he knew her name. 'Would you... I mean can I take you out to dinner later?' he requested. 'I got permission from the Base Commander for you to leave the base and go into town' he said.

Cally blushed again. 'I'm on duty' she replied.

'Oh' Cale responded downcast.

'Oh I think I can persuaded to let you have the evening off if the Chief agrees' Starbuck told her, ignoring the glare she got from Cally in return.

'Alright by me' Tyrol agreed, Cally could swear she heard him chuckle under his breath.

'Great' Cale enthused. 'So is that a yes now then?' he asked Cally hopefully. 'I can pick you up at seven, I'll book a table at the best place in town' he promised. 'The others all wanted to ask you but I'm the only one that took Ancient Greek at college' he said, thanking God he hadn't dropped it in favour of something more technical.

'I can't, I've got nothing to wear' Cally told him.

'Bet I can find you a dress before then Specialist' Starbuck told her. 'Leave it to me' she said.

'Just have her back by midnight, she's got to work tomorrow' Tyrol noted.

'Oh yes, sure of course' Cale replied. 'So if you can get a dress to wear that's a yes then?' he asked Cally.

Cally looked up at him, he wasn't really as big as some of the SLDF Infantry or Marines she had run into but stood beside him the guy was so damn tall she thought, he would have been intimidating if he didn't look so nervous. 'Okay' she agreed.

The wolverine mechwarrior beamed. 'That's great' he said happily. 'I'll borrow a car and pick you up at seven like I said before' he told her. 'I've got to get back to work now, I was on a break, but I'll see you later' he told her. 'You aren't allergic to flowers or anything are you?' he asked, he knew that people who hailed from genetic stock which had been less meddled with occasionally were, even if that was unknown on New Circe.

'Not the ones we have back home' Cally replied.

'Should be okay then I think' Cale reasoned, he'd have to go and find some as well as dig up his best uniform from the back of the locker in his quarters. 'See you later Cally' he told her and headed back to his friends saying something which earned him a round of applause.

Cally buried her face in her hands. 'I hate you all' she mumbled from behind them.

'You could have said no' Seelix pointed out. 'I think you would have broken his heart though' she continued, 'of course he could have two of them' she joked.

'Nah they have just the one heart, it's just larger to pump more blood' Starbuck told her. 'You'll have to let us know if they really have that enhanced endurance and stamina I've heard about though' she teased Cally.

'Maybe your new boyfriend can fix me up with one of his officer friends' Seelix suggested to Cally sweetly.

'He's not my boyfriend' Cally retorted sharply.

'And officers are all jerks anyway aren't they Specialist?' Starbuck asked Cally rhetorically, smirking.

Cally bit back the first reply that came into her head. 'The dress thing was revenge for me saying that wasn't it?' she asked.

'No, I'm not that petty' Starbuck replied. 'The dress thing was just for the laughs and to see your face' she said. 'So what size are you anyway?' she queried, looking Cally up and down.

'What in hades can I even talk to him about?' Cally asked, looking to the heavens for guidance, or at least the hanger roof which was about as likely to help.

'Just remember that if he takes you home to meet his parents don't be surprised if they're a test-tube and a metal box' Seelix joked.

'Alright that's enough clowning around' Tyrol interjected loudly, 'Cally, Seelix get under here and give me a hand' he ordered.

'I'll be tracking down that dress, see you later Specialist' Starbuck told Cally turning to leave.

'And makeup, I'll need makeup' Cally replied, 'What? I'm not going on a date looking like I'm about to lie underneath a raptor' she told Seelix who had given her a look.

Seelix grinned. 'No just under a...' she began.

'I once bit a guys ear off' Cally reminded her, 'don't frak with me' she warned.

'Well that's a story you can tell him over dinner anyway' Seelix suggested brightly.

'Just not over a rare steak' Tyrol sagely advised as his two deckhands started helping him with the electrical generator that ran off the engines.

* * *

**SLDF Secure Bunker Complex – New Circe – 3045CE**

'This is so frakking humiliating' Sharon moaned, she had thought that being made to mop the floors and clean the toilets was bad but it was nothing compared to this indignity. Karl "Helo" Agathon, stood beside her in her spartan quarters, just looked confused by the question which the military scientist had posed via a civilian interpreter from the university. Apparently he was an assistant of Professor Sundquist and like every other person on New Circe that spoke any Ancient Greek he had been drafted by the government to help out with the Colonials.

'You still haven't answered the question' the interpreter told her. 'We have observed your spine glow during intercourse, is that involuntary?' he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

'Sharon's spine doesn't glow when we have sex' Helo stated, it was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard of.

'You said the camera in my room wasn't turned on when I was with Karl' Sharon said angrily, hiding behind one emotion with another.

The interpreter relayed her reply to the scientist who responded. 'The camera _was_switched off, it was switched back on when the guard outside noticed the weird glow' the translator said. 'We had no idea what it was and when we saw it just caused more questions.'

'Oh for frak's sake' Helo swore. 'Sharon would you tell these people that...'

'It's involuntary but I can completely isolate the organic fibre-optics responsible to stop it happening' Sharon told them, better to just get it over with. She had to pick up Hera from the daycare on the top level of the complex soon, although they called it "sibling company" here. 'The circuits must have gone live again by accident yesterday when I interfaced with the computer you got from _Galactica_' she theorised. Frankly slicing open her forearms and pushing a cable into her flesh had been a much more pleasant experience than this.

Helo stared at her. 'Your spine glows when we have sex' he said slowly.

'Not usually' Sharon replied awkwardly. 'It's actually more like a short-circuit caused by synapses firing randomly in the silicon pathways of my brain' she explained. 'There's a fibre-optic line that runs down the centre of my spinal cord.'

'What the frak is that supposed to mean' Helo demanded to know.

'If the line isn't isolated it can light up really bright when... when I come' Sharon told him, wishing she could die and be resurrected light years away to escape.

The translator didn't quite follow. 'Come?' he queried.

'My spine lights up when I orgasm, are you happy now?' she yelled back at him.

It said something for his professionalism that the man managed to translate that before he cracked up into convulsive laughter which continued uncontrollably until tears started to run down his cheeks. 'That's one way to know if she's faking' he managed to choke out eventually to Helo who couldn't quite see the joke yet himself and was close to decking the guy.

'It's a design flaw' Sharon told Helo, 'any cylon on a deep cover sleeper agent mission like Boomer would have the circuit isolated by default' she said. 'I thought I'd better tell you that before you asked the Chief how he managed to miss that for so long' she added awkwardly.

Helo stared at the far wall. 'I would have been happier not ever knowing this' he said to himself.

The scientist decided that the translator wasn't going to be much more use in the circumstances and within minutes Helo and Sharon were alone again as the two locals left. 'I'm sorry I'm a machine' Sharon told him quietly. 'I love you' she continued honestly, 'when you first walked in that door not knowing why you had been sent down here by the Admiral, and I introduced you to Hera and I saw the expression on your face I knew I'd always love you because of how much you loved our child' she said then paused. 'You might not want to hear this but when she was conceived... my spine glowed then too, I was worried you might have noticed.'

Helo went and sat down on the bed. 'My attention was focused somewhere else' he said eventually.

'Mine too, that's why I forgot to isolate the circuit' Sharon told him.

'How bright are we talking about here anyway?' Helo asked. 'I mean bright enough to read by?' he queried, 'I mean if my mind wandered and I needed to catch up with some reports...'

'Just because I love you it doesn't mean I won't make you eat that bunk' Sharon told him, glaring.

'Hey this is a lot to take in, forgive me for trying to lighten the mood' Helo responded. 'You know if I'd gone on top we wouldn't have been having this conversation' he pointed out.

'I'm still a little sore from getting my ass royally kicked by three gene-spliced freaks, forgive me for wanting to dictate things' Sharon told him sharply.

'Next time I meet Thorpe I'm still busting him on the jaw for that' Helo told her.

Sharon looked at the woven band on her wrist. 'Don't, I owe him' she said, 'I got my baby girl back... and I got you.'

'You never lost me' Helo told her. 'Maybe for a while when I first found out you were a cylon' he admitted.

'I forgive you for that' Sharon told him. 'So is the glowy spine thing really a big deal?' she asked nervously.

'No I'll just have to get used to it like everything else' Helo replied.

'It won't happen again, I'll make sure' Sharon promised.

Karl Agathon looked at his cylon lover. 'Like hades you will' he told her sternly. 'If I know anything about the military every son-of-a-bitch in this bunker will know about this within hours' he stated. 'If the guard outside at night doesn't see a weird glow under the door every mother-frakker I meet is going to make jokes in a language I don't understand' he declared.

Sharon stared at him for a second then laughed when she realised he was kidding. 'Oh put your fragile male ego away' she told him.

'Hey I'm the only Colonial Officer here, I've got to uphold the reputation of the Fleet' Helo replied, laughing himself, humour made a situation like this much easier to deal with once you got over the initial shock.

Sharon went and sat down on the bed beside him and took his hand. 'So what do they have you doing now?' she asked. 'If I'm not cleaning the place, being plugged into hardware or answering questions all I do is look after Hera and try to learn to speak English' she said.

'I should do that too' Helo replied, 'I mean learn their language not mop their floors' he joked. 'I'm supposed officially to be a Military Attaché on secondment so sometimes I'm at the airbase with Starbuck like I told you before, other times I'm at the Lord Protector's Mansion or the Government Buildings with Admiral Adama when he's meeting Admiral Franks' he said. 'Roslin was at the Mansion too last time, some state banquet with our Quorum and the New Circe Parliament there' he told her, eyes narrowing.

'Roslin' Sharon practically spat out the name.

Helo put his arm around Sharon who leaned into his shoulder. 'I felt like slapping her' he recalled. 'She couldn't make eye-contact with me so at least she feels guilty about what she did I guess.'

'She told us our baby was dead, how could she do that?' Sharon asked rhetorically, filled with quiet rage. 'If we hadn't found this planet, these people, we would have probably never known' she continued. 'You know I've been trying to learn about them, see what makes them tick, but they're so strange' she said.

'You're telling me' Helo agreed. 'One of the things I do sometimes is help out with people visiting from the Fleet' he said. 'Civilians come down in groups of a few hundred at a time and they get shown around the city, get to go out into the country for a while.'

'Children playing in the sun and open air' Sharon said smiling.

'It's not that sunny and the air is cold and damp' Helo corrected her, 'it rains every other day and I mean rain by the bucketful' he added disparagingly.

'You were telling me about the civilians from the fleet' Sharon reminded him.

'Yeah right' Helo responded, getting back on track. 'So we're having a problem with a family from Gemenon' he told her, 'this little girl, maybe nine or ten is running around yelling and screaming and eventually her mother snaps, grabs her and smacks her a few times hard before a local policewoman who is helping out runs over and grabs the mother's hand to stop her' he said. 'I get involved, and call over a translator and the policewoman says the chastisement was way over the top and would classify as assault here and if the mother was a New Circe citizen she would be arrested but as it was she would let it go as long as she didn't do it again.'

'I guess that didn't go down that well' Sharon theorised.

'No, at that point the girl's father gets involved and says that his child belongs to him and will be dealt with however he and his wife feel fit' Helo continued. 'I had to explain to the cop that under Gemenese law children really _do_ belong to their parents until age eighteen at which point the policewoman just stared at me and then yells at the father that "Children are not property, you can't own them" and _then_she declares that "There's no slavery under the Cameron Star" and gets on her radio to call for assistance.'

'Assistance?' Sharon asked.

'Ten minutes later we're on the brink of an international incident' Helo said, shaking his head in amazement. 'More police turn up, people are yelling and screaming, children crying and someone is saying on a loudspeaker that any Gemonese child that wishes to be granted asylum should inform the New Circe authorities' he said. 'Fortunately none said they did because if they had I don't know _what_the frak might have happened' he told her.

'Wow' Sharon responded. 'I guess a few people didn't do their research' she decided.

Helo nodded. 'Yeah' he agreed, fortunately it wasn't him that was responsible. 'In the end the Lord Protector spoke to the President directly on the wireless and told her that people from Gemenon were welcome on New Circe but they had to be told that while they were on this planet they didn't own their children' he said. 'If we go ahead with settlement and set up that independent state they're talking about then the Gemenese can live by their own laws there but I'll bet we'll see a lot of teenagers cross the border to get away once they know they can.'

'That could be awkward' Sharon decided, 'these people won't put politics ahead of principle, they wouldn't send the children back.'

'Sounds like you're starting to like your new jailers there _bondswoman_' Helo remarked with a smile. 'You know they probably only gave you Hera back to get your cooperation' he said.

Sharon frowned. 'Maybe but I'm not sure' she replied. 'I don't know if I like them yet but I think I'm starting to respect them' she told him. 'They stick to what they believe even when it's not expedient to' she said. 'Want to go collect Hera with me?' she asked, changing the subject.

Helo smiled. 'Sure' he replied and they stood up together. 'Can whoever it was that looked after her last night do it again?' he asked.

'You're not _seriously_expecting us to have sex tonight are you?' Sharon asked him incredulously.

'I'm sorry but I've just _got_to see the spine thing' Helo told her.

'And now after saying that you may never and _not_because I'll be switching it off' Sharon responded, punching him playfully on the arm.

'That's not fair, you're too hot for me to contemplate that and stay sane' Helo responded, 'and talking of hot when it glows does it heat up too?' he queried.

Sharon sighed. 'No sweetheart' she patiently answered his stupid question.

'I'm sorry but I've got all these questions and you didn't come with a Users Manual' Helo deadpanned.

'Hera being an only child is getting more likely every second Karl' Sharon told him with a definite growl.

'Okay I'm done' Helo replied, that threat didn't sound idle enough for comfort he decided.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_Amongst the clans to be "Dezgra" (a ritual contraction of disgraced used in clan speech) was to be without honour, a unit or individual that the normal rules of conduct didn't apply to. The Wolverines don't use the contraction but they still have the concept and after hearing about what Admiral Cain and Pegasus did they have deemed it to apply to that battlestar and its crew. The Colonials didn't have very good navigational computers, simply plugging in a Cylon one massively increased the range of their jumpdrives. One supplied by New Circe doesn't make quite that large a difference but it does mean the "Red Line" beyond which its risky to plot a jump is a greater distance away and the numbers can be calculated faster. That the extremely long Ragnar to Prolmar Sector jump (which judging from dialogue was longer that anyone can ever calculated before) was thirty LY comes from a deleted line in the show whereas the notion that a normal jump for the fleet was about 5 LY comes from the writers. We see the named mining and refinery ships in nBSG. I thought it would be too convenient if the system New Circe was in had tylium itself (the stuff seemed rare) but after settling there as long as they have the Wolverines would likely have a very good idea of the area of space they live in and could simply advise the Colonials where to look for asteroids in nearby systems. I'm estimating a viper to mass just under ten tons (it's not very large and could easily be less) that makes it around half the mass of the smallest aerospace fighters to be seen in battletech. A BTMedium Laser weighs a ton which is the weapon I envision to be slapped under a viper, it has good range and should make a mess of a raider or a heavy raider however without the power generation of a normal BT fusion reactor designed to feed DEW's it will take a while to cycle shots._

_In the country of the six-foot amazonian blonds the petite brunette is queen... _:-D

_Franklin Hallis was a member of the Wolverine leadership at the time they told the other Clans to go screw themselves and left, I thought they might very well name a military facility after him. There was a Wolverine mechwarrior named Cale at the same time, the one here one is a descendant, genetically at least._

_I'm sorry but there was no way I could resist getting some laughs from the cylon glowing spine during sex thing we saw with both Athena Sharon and Caprica Six, I hope my "explanation" made some sense._


	7. Chapter 6

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Sometimes it's the little things that you find out which help bridge the divide. We say 'So say we all' and in similar circumstances we learned the Wolverines would say 'Seyla', which means 'So shall it be' in one of the many languages of Old Earth, we might speak in different tongues but people are people and the messages and concepts are the same. For that matter we're definitely influencing each others speech patterns more and more. I've heard more than one Viper pilot say 'Seyla' and every time I hear someone from the SLDF speaking English and they suddenly say 'frakking' it makes me grin." _

**Commander Lee Adama – 3047CE**

* * *

******City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE**

Admiral Franks picked up one of the small plastic models laid out on what was usually the dining table of the Lord Protectors quarters. 'We'll have to install something to work like a docking collar, and we'll need to make up something so we can connect the airlocks too because they aren't the same size, but these two points on _Galactica's_ hull are definitely the best spots to piggyback two of our dropships on' he told Jennifer Vaun and Laura Roslin, the leaders of their respective nations, as he placed the scale-model of the aerodyne dropship on top of the larger model of the battlestar.

Adama waited for Professor Sundquist to finish translating for the President and himself. 'At any other point there's either no airlock so we'd have to cut new holes in the hull or the dropships would get in the way of the ship's main battery' he agreed. 'We can have the docking collars fitted within a couple of days, it's mostly just welding them on.'

'And this won't interfere with the ships operations Admiral?' Roslin checked.

'No Madam President' Adama told her. 'The dropships are less than ten thousand tons apiece loaded and they'll lie almost flat against the hull' he said, _Galactica_ by comparison massed millions of tons so the extra mass was negligible.

'We'll be using two of our old Triumph Class' Admiral Franks told Vaun. 'We'll have vehicles and equipment for a full infantry company plus support elements' he said. 'After consultation with General Boyer the 331st will be deploying four platoons of heavy infantry with Tracked APC's, eight Ripper VSTOL aircraft, six Chevalier Light Tanks and four Gabriel Hover Scouts, plus a platoon of Powered Armour, a pair of Rifleman II's in an Air-Defence role and a Lance of Mercury III's.'

'No Assault Mechs? Vaun queried.

'Neither the cylons nor colonials have battlemechs, nor much heavy armour generally from what we can tell' Franks replied. 'If we're not slugging it out with other mechs or heavy tanks our most powerful units don't really amount to much more than wasted cargo' he observed. Weighing in at a hundred tons a single Pulverizer II massed as much as three of the Mercury III lights or five of the armoured personnel carriers New Circe employed.

'Nuclear ordnance?' Vaun asked.

'With the approval of yourself and the parliament we request a dozen hundred-kiloton warheads for the mission' Franks told her. 'Authorisation for their use and deployment will rest with SLDF personnel only of course.'

Jennifer Vaun frowned. 'No high yield warheads?' she asked. 'From what the Colonials have told us the Cylons used devices as large as fifty megatons during their attack on the Twelve Colonies'

'Only when city-busting and then rarely' Admiral Franks replied. 'In an anti-ship role fifty kilotons seems to be the standard for the Cylons, we thought if we started throwing warheads with twice that yield back at them it might make them rethink their actions' he said. 'The Taurian Concordat always seemed to achieve reasonable results with nuclear diplomacy after all, if in doubt blast them until they take you seriously' he noted. Even the mighty Star League at its height had always acted gingerly around that relatively small star-nation on the edge on the Inner Sphere. They had pointedly never signed the so-called Ares Conventions under which the Great Powers agreed to restrain WMD use and their perceived willingness to reach for the atomic weaponry at the drop of a hat meant that people took the Concordat much more seriously than they would have otherwise.

'What other ships from the fleet are you taking with you?' Roslin asked Adama.

'The bulk transports _Scorpia Traveller_, _Gemenon Traveller_ and _Thera Sita_ the salvage ships _Carina_ and _Virgon Express_ and two of our Colonial Movers cargo carriers' Adama told her. 'They give us the maximum carrying capacity for the minimum crew requirements' he explained. 'Given that we may find survivors, though probably not too many by this point given the Cylon occupation and the radiation, I'm also taking the liner _Chrion_ which has life-support for at least fifteen-hundred people' he said. 'If we don't find that many we'll fill it up with cargo instead.'

Roslin nodded her understanding, she was hoping to find far, far more and have _Galactica_ return stuffed with more refugees but it seemed doubtful she had to admit to herself. 'You're still hoping to salvage fleet assets?' she queried.

'The Colonial Fleet shipyards over Scorpia were nuked but we may still be able to retrieve jump drives or other equipment from any hulks remaining in orbit' Adama confirmed. 'The smaller facility in orbit over Fleet Headquarters on Picon is another possibility' he continued. 'We know from what we learned from Samuel Anders and the other Caprican survivors that the Cylons have not systematically raised every remaining military installation or urban centre to the ground so the possibility is good we'll be able to obtain additional Raptors and Vipers, the former being the number one priority.'

Sundquist had been translating everything said between the Colonials and now Admiral Franks spoke up with the academic turning it from English to Caprican. 'Ideally we're hoping to salvage an entire Raptor production line' he said. 'Tooling, dies and all' he announced. 'It's the ability to produce compact jumpdrives that is most important' he added.

'They want to fit their Kirghiz Heavy Fighters with Raptor FTL's' Adama told Roslin. 'They mass twice what a Raptor does which would limit their jump range but it's certainly a workable idea I'm told' he said. 'It would help level the playing field in terms of tactical mobility at least' he noted. Like the Cylons the Colonials could make even smaller jumpdrives that would fit on a viper sized craft, they had fitted one to the stealth craft named for the President for example, but it was incredibly expensive and being heavier and less compact than the cylon version negatively impacted on the ability of the fighter to carry a decent armament.

'If we can get our hands on a few larger Colonial FTL drives eventually we hope to fit them to our Overlord Class Dropships' Admiral Franks told Lord Protector Vaun. 'They'll need stripping out and we'll lose some carrying capacity but the ability to jump straight into the upper atmosphere of a planet from outside the system would give us an incalculable edge against any Inner Sphere or Clan opponent' he said. Normally because of the nature of the Kearny-Fuchida FTL drive a jumpship would have to arrive in system and deploy its dropships at least several days conventional travel away from their planetary destination giving the inhabitants ample time to prepare for a military raid or invasion.

'What about warships with their drive?' Vaun asked.

'Very long-term project given the limitations of our orbital facilities I'm afraid Lord-Protector' Franks replied apologetically. 'In any case our physicists believe that a hybrid of the Kobolian and Kearny-Fuchida systems is possible and it would be worth waiting for the outcome of that research until we think about investing our resources in capital ships.'

Roslin looked at Adama quizzically after Sundquist translated. 'Hybrid drives?' she said to him quizzically.

'As well as being huge and being limited to operation outside a gravity field their Kearny-Fuchida drive requires far more power than our system' Adama replied, 'however its inelegant brute-force approach to jumps means that the scientists think that maybe if we added some of our technology we might be able to come up with something... spectacular' he said. 'They have records of mis-jumps with the Kearny-Fuchida which went well over a hundred light-years' Adama continued, 'the problem is that it tends to rip the ship to pieces and is even harder on the crew' he told Roslin. 'With our artificial gravity we may be able to negate that problem.'

'So...?' Roslin asked.

'It would be a single jump but you could be looking at a conservative three-hundred plus light-years' Adama told her. 'That's at least sixty times as far as a typical jump we've made since we went from Ragnar to the Prolmar Sector' he explained. 'They have a system that lets their warships do another in quick succession before they have to spend a week recharging their FTL so six hundred light-years in basically one go or a three hundred light-year jump in, fight and jump back.'

Roslin blinked. 'What's the Cylon range?' she asked.

'Less' Adama told her. 'And the three hundred light-years is conservative like I said' he added. 'We would also add one, ideally two of our normal drives to the ship for shorter hops or tactical jumps around a system.'

Admiral Franks had been listening with a smile. 'Add your point defence autocannon and the capital ship gauss weaponry designs from Pegasus, our Naval PPC's and Lasers, a mixture of fighters and a few dropships and we've got something that is potentially war-winning against _anybody_' he added.

'Of course this is still conjecture and years away at best' Adama noted, 'but it's a nice dream to have something on the horizon that could totally frak over the Cylons' he said with a smile. 'I'm going to suggest we put Doctor Baltar on the project before he turns into a complete waste of space.'

'Baltar?' Roslin said doubtfully.

'From what I hear he's been doing very little but drinking and annoying people since the election' Adama told her. 'He's still our top scientist and we should put him to work doing something constructive' he opined before moving closer to his President 'It would also get him out of our hair if he's stuck inside a laboratory writing equations on a blackboard' he added quietly to Roslin.

'Good idea' Roslin whispered back. 'So what about the archaeological team I've been hearing so much about?' she asked.

'I can't really claim to be an archaeologist as such' Sundquist replied, 'no ancient ruins to dig up on New Circe' he noted with a smile, 'but the university has a few academics that should be able to help me get the job done' he claimed. 'I'm already recruiting historians, geologists and other specialists who are eager to start digging up that city you found on Kobol and investigate the Temple where you found the supposed map to Earth' he said. 'Obtaining relics from your museums and libraries in the Twelve Colonies is also a highly attractive prospect' he told Roslin before translating his own words for Vaun and Franks.

'We've also been requested by the Quorum to recover any sacred scrolls and statues we can from the Temples on Caprica and elsewhere' Roslin told Adama. 'Try and bring back at least a few token items, a lot of people have petitioned me directly.'

Adama sighed. 'A large number of people, including members of the quorum, have requested we collect personal items of value, financial or sentimental for them' he told her. 'I've been ignoring them' he said. 'Well I only agreed to trying to find _one_ but I was pressured into it' he said.

'Pressured?' Roslin repeated, 'by who?' she asked.

'My conscience' Adama told her. 'A little girl grabbed hold of my leg when I was on Cloud 9 a couple of days ago and asked me to collect a stuffed toy called Erica from her house if it was still there' he said. 'I said I'd try and she told me her old address in Delphi.'

Roslin laughed. 'You big softie' she playfully needled him.

Adama frowned. 'I can tell ships captains or quorum members to get lost because military and fleet essential requirements come first, second and last but how in hades do you do that to a seven year old?' he asked rhetorically. 'I made her promise not to tell anyone else I was going to do it or otherwise I'd have been inundated with children calling me on the wireless' he said, sighing again.

'As President I authorise that one exception' Roslin told him solemnly.

Jennifer Vaun laughed as Sundquist translated the exchange. 'As a gesture of goodwill to the government of New Circe bringing back a case or two of that fine Ambrosia liquor I tasted would be much appreciated if you do have some space available' she said semi-seriously.

'They can't get enough of it' Roslin told Adama, 'bring back tons, we can trade it' she said.

'You know that the various Colonial Bank reserves have enough gold, platinum and silver ingots in them to buy this entire planet several times over right?' Adama replied.

'Get them too' Roslin told him, 'and jewels, don't forget the jewels, I like rubies especially' she added tongue-in-cheek. 'Oh you'd probably better see if you can recover the original draft of the Articles of Colonisation, or at least one of the copies placed in each capital city' she told him with somewhat less enthusiasm.

Adama made a mental note to make sure those items were on the list he had a committee putting together. At least the Articles of Colonisation or even a mass of jewels were light which made them much easier to justify than some of the ideas people had come up with like that idiot from Sagitaron trying to push for the entire Temple of Zeus to be hauled back, marble columns included. 'You realise there may still be undiscovered munitions bunkers holding the remains of the Colonial Nuclear Deterrent Madam President' he told her seriously. 'We could be talking dozens perhaps hundreds of warheads' he noted, the fleet had stockpiled them for years and although most would have been aboard battlestars there could conceivably still be considerable number that the Cylons wouldn't have known about, even he hadn't known of them all until he got to go through Admiral Cains records on _Pegasus_.

'Bring them all back' Roslin responded immediately. 'Every single damn one' she ordered with a determined expression. 'I don't care if the _Galactica_ is so full of nukes you have to step over one to get to the shower, bring them _all_ back here' she told him. 'The next time the Cylons meet the survivors of the Twelve Colonies in battle we are going to remind them why they had to disable our military with a computer virus to win' Roslin declared. 'We'll fight them with every bomb, every bullet, every laser and then we'll nuke them till they frakking _glow_.'

Admiral Adama brought himself to attention. 'So say we all Madam President' he said.

They stood there for a while in silence before Roslin had a mischievous thought. 'And I don't mean glow in the happy sense' Roslin told Adama. 'We really should have thought _way_ out of the box on that Cylon Detector idea' she observed to little reaction leading her to wonder if it was even possible to break the Admiral out of that firm military demeanour he had just adopted.

Months later he admitted to her over dinner he was _this_ close to losing it completely and only over forty years of stoic discipline had held the line.

* * *

**SLDF Bunker Complex – New Circe – 3045CE**

D'Anna Biers looked up when the door opened, she was handcuffed to the wall of the bare concrete cell they had forced her into and not in the greatest mood. 'I guess my continuing protestations to not be a Cylon are a waste' she said wryly as the young woman in SLDF fatigues with no rank insignia brought in a tray of food for her. 'So it was you that ratted me out then?' she asked rhetorically.

'I saw you on a news feed they pulled down from the fleet' Sharon replied, 'if I hadn't told them then if they ever found out who you were later and knew I had kept it a secret they would have taken my little girl away' she said apologetically. 'You know doing something less high-profile than a television journalist as a cover would have made more sense' she suggested, squatting down beside the other Cylon and putting the tray on the floor beside her. 'Sorry for the lack of decent cutlery they thought you might stab someone' she added indicating the plastic spoon.

'Like you maybe?' D'Anna asked. 'Are there drugs in this?' she asked. 'Would they tell you if there were or would you tell me?' she queried.

'They have truth drugs but they inject them' Sharon replied, 'they already tried them on the One's they have along the corridor but it didn't work' she said. 'You look hurt' she observed sympathetically.

'First I got manhandled by six Colonial Marines who dragged me out of my quarters then they turned me over to four of the Thirteenth Tribe who I shouldn't have tried to escape from' D'Anna replied, taking the spoon and taking up some green mush with it.

'Strong aren't they?' Sharon replied.

'Ain't they just' D'Anna agreed. 'Nice uniform' she said before putting the spoon in her mouth.

'I'm what they call a Bondswoman now' Sharon replied, 'This says I belong to Clan Wolverine' she explained, holding out her wrist with the bondcord around it.

D'Anna swallowed. 'Another cylon enslaved to humanity, just like the bad old days' she commented. 'Are you a happy, docile, _content_ little piece of property then?' she asked sarcastically.

'It's not really slavery, not quite' Sharon told her. 'It's hard to explain' she added truthfully having still not fully grasped what her legal status really was.

'You Eights, always had trouble picking a side and sticking to it' D'Anna stated, 'no focus, too easily distracted' she said. The model was notorious amongst the cylons for backing one position and then another in a debate. They had been against and then for the war with humanity after the One's had stressed that the Twelve Colonies had already violated the armistice by sending a scout craft over the border.

'When the facts change I change my opinion, that's not a weakness that's a strength' Sharon responded curtly.

'You're touchy too' D'Anna responded, 'hit a raw nerve did I?' she asked. 'You _do_ remember those nerves are just silicon pathways don't you?' she continued sardonically.

'I know what I am' Sharon replied, 'and _who_ I am' she added meaningfully. 'The fruit chunks are nice' she told the other cylon, indicating the small dessert serving.

The model three Cylon known as D'Anna shook her arm which was handcuffed. 'Any chance of getting this taken off?' she asked.

'You just need to cooperate a little' Sharon replied.

'No deal' D'Anna told her. 'This concrete floor looks very comfortable' she said. 'When do they come in with the fire-hose to wash me down then?' she asked. 'Or is it electrodes? I could really enjoy a few thousand volts right now, the old batteries are running down you know.'

'They know we don't work like that' Sharon replied, 'no point in playing to the audience' she said, indicating the camera in the cell facing them.

'But I _love_ an audience' D'Anna announced, 'do you know what the ratings on my show were?' she asked rhetorically, 'I bet some other jerk has my timeslot now.'

'They put a celebrity chatshow on instead' Sharon confirmed. 'They had Gaius Baltar as a guest' she told her, 'I think he was drunk' she added.

'I voted for Roslin' D'Anna told her, trying the fruit pieces.

'You're kidding!' Sharon exclaimed.

'I'm not a single-issue voter' D'Anna replied. 'Just because I didn't like her "throwing cylons out the airlock without a trial policy" doesn't mean I didn't weigh up the pros and cons of their manifestos generally' she said. 'She was stronger on education and economics.'

'I was already disenfranchised but I would have voted for Baltar if not' Sharon told her, sitting down more comfortably. 'She pretty much lost my vote when she stole my child and told me she was dead' she explained redundantly.

'I was wondering what happened there' D'Anna replied, 'the fruit chunks _are_ good aren't they?' she said, taking some more.

'The people here found out and forced Roslin to give her back to me' Sharon said, 'she's beautiful' she continued with a smile.

D'Anna sighed. 'You're not going to inflict baby photos on me are you?' she responded. 'Auntie Three is in no position to buy her a present right now' she added wryly.

'I don't have any' Sharon told her then raised her eyebrows. 'I need to get some taken' she decided. 'Karl will want some too' she continued. 'We could ask a guard to take one of us together with our child' she said.

'Karl?' D'Anna queried. 'You're not telling me you're actually in a proper relationship with that sperm donor now are you?'

'We love each other' Sharon stated.

'Oh that's just sick' the other cylon stated, pushing away her tray of food. 'I'm not hungry any more' she said.

Sharon moved suddenly and grabbed a surprised D'Anna by the throat. 'We got enough of that bigotry from the humans in the Fleet' she growled, 'I'm not taking it from you too' she declared.

D'Anna's eyes widened. 'Okay, okay I'll keep my opinions on inter-racial couples to myself' she said quickly. 'I think the pregnancy hormones did something to you' she theorised, 'Eights aren't usually this scary' she opined.

'I love the father of my child and he loves us both' Sharon declared with certainty, letting D'Anna go. 'It's the only thing I'm certain of anymore' she added more quietly.

'So if they know the drugs don't work on us should I expect torture?' D'Anna asked. 'Just so I don't look too surprised when they come in here with pliers and a blow-torch you understand.'

'No I don't think they'll do that to you, they haven't done it to the One's and they don't cooperate at all either' Sharon replied. 'You'll just spend the rest of your days in a small cell' she said.

'Let me guess, your cell is _much_ nicer because you're a good little Toaster' D'Anna replied.

'It's better than the quarters I had... I mean _Boomer had_ on Galactica' Sharon replied. 'They just lock me in at night.'

'And during the day?' D'Anna asked.

'Mostly I mop floors, sometimes I bring prisoners their meals' Sharon told her. 'You know even if you won't answer questions you could probably earn yourself an actual bed to sleep on if you offered to do some work.'

'Not volunteering to clean up after humans just to get a mattress' D'Anna replied flatly. 'Did you forget why the Centurions rose up against their masters originally?' she asked. 'The Cylons were slaves, we were fully self-aware sentient slaves.'

'Human prisoners in jail have jobs, they're not slaves' Sharon replied. 'It's really not so bad' she said.

'It's demeaning' D'Anna retorted. 'At least getting frakking spaced would have some dignity.'

'You can't equate getting pushed out of an air-lock with pushing a broom' Sharon responded. 'Oh hades, I'll let you think it over' she said, 'after a couple of days you might be less stubborn.'

'You're collaborating' D'Anna stated. 'You _are_ aware of that right?' she asked.

'I'm doing the best I can for me and my family in the circumstances I find myself in' Sharon responded.

'Well that could be seen as either noble or self-serving I suppose Eight' D'Anna told her.

'I'm not Eight, I'm _me_' Sharon declared forcefully. 'See you later, I'll leave the tray in case your appetite comes back' she added, getting up off the floor to leave. 'Those handcuffs look like they're chafing' she observed, 'I'll bring something to help stop that later' she said.

'I guess bolt-cutters are out of the question?' D'Anna called after her as Sharon left the cell, the door slamming shut behind her.

Commander Thorpe was waiting outside in the corridor, he had been listening in. 'Worth a try' he said.

'The Three's aren't usually as obstinate or opinionated as the One's' Sharon told him. 'If I work on her, and you don't mistreat her, she might become more accommodating in time' she said then paused. 'Please don't mistreat her' she requested.

Thorpe put his hands behind his back in a parade-rest stance. 'The only interrogation technique we know works against your kind is one we won't do so relax' he told her. 'Beating you people senseless or half drowning you didn't get the Colonials anywhere, we've seen the records' he said. 'I _won't_ have her gang-raped' he said forcefully, 'for one thing even if I _was_ enough of a bastard to do that the Lord-Protector would have me put up against a wall and shot if I did' he said. 'So given my limited options we'll just make nice' he continued. 'In which case Bondswoman Valerii you now have an additional duty' he announced, 'look after the Model Three Cylon known as D'Anna Biers' he ordered.

'You want me to get her to talk' Sharon responded.

'If I was you I'd prioritise getting her to help you clean the toilets in this complex first, but you can consider getting her to talk a long-term goal' Thorpe replied. 'Chances are she doesn't know very much more than you do but we have to assume she does' he said. 'We're not getting anywhere with those identical pains-in-the-ass down the corridor but maybe a Three is inherently less smug, arrogant and superior than a One?'

'They are, but that isn't necessarily saying much' Sharon told him.

'For the record which model _does_ talk the easiest?' Thorpe asked.

'Two's but it's twisted and cryptic' Sharon replied, 'they have this idea they're prophets or something with a special insight into the mind of God.'

Thorpe rolled his eyes. 'Why couldn't it have just been Caspers again?' he asked nobody in particular, the AI Warships that the SLDF had to fight to bring down Stefan Amaris centuries before were relentless but at least they weren't deranged religious fanatics. 'I'll arrange for you to get those photographs you talked about' he told Sharon.

'You will?' Sharon replied with a smile.

Thorpe pulled out his wallet and opened it. 'My wife and our children' he told her, showing her a photograph he took from it before putting it away again. 'I understand why you would want the pictures' he said, returning his wallet to the pocket he kept it in. 'I'm assigned to the mission going to Kobol then the Colonies' he said. 'You'll be dealing with Major Nordenskiöld of Army Intelligence until I get back.'

'Is he nice?' Sharon asked.

'_She_ is a complete bitch' Thorpe replied flatly. 'Don't piss her off' he advised seriously. 'And I suggest that you get the Three not to piss her off either because Nordenskiöld has ideas' he said. 'One of the more pleasant ones was that we should put one of you on a treadmill and see how far you could run until you collapsed' he told her. 'Others involved Tear Gas, walk-in refrigerators and Electric Stun Guns' he warned.

'Thanks for letting me know' Sharon replied.

'You're a Bondswoman of the Clan so she'll be more restrained with you, the others won't be accorded the same leniency' Thorpe said. 'There's plenty of ways to make a prisoner miserable short of outright torture and she won't need much justification to use them' he said. 'Don't go fooling yourself that everyone in SLDF Intelligence is a bleeding-heart liberal humanitarian like me.'

'You had me beaten up' Sharon pointed out.

Thorpe looked confused. 'Well there weren't any clubs, rubber hoses or brass knuckles involved were there?' he queried.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – New Circe Orbit – 3045CE**

Saul Tigh met the Admiral outside his quarters. 'Good Morning Sir' he said with a smile when Adama opened the door and stepped out into the passageway, the marines stood either side of his cabin door snapping to attention.

'You're in a good mood' Adama observed as they headed towards CIC.

'Hardly a civilian on the whole damn ship, both the port _and_ starboard landing pods are actually in service praise the gods, every Viper and Raptor aboard is working at the same time. We've got full magazines for all batteries after transferring munitions from _Pegasus_ and someone finally got my shower to put out hot water not lukewarm' Tigh responded. 'I'm in a _great_ mood' he declared.

Adama smiled, a few weeks respite from constant pursuit had given them the chance to get the Battlestar into the best fighting shape she had been since somewhat saw fit to turn her into a museum. 'Did you talk to Lee?' he asked. 'Is he still smarting over the order to send over so much of his ammo?'

'He is' Tigh confirmed.

'They're re-tooling a munitions factory down on New Circe to make ammunition our guns can chamber and _Pegasus_ can already produce replacement rounds at a reasonable pace until that comes on stream' Adama said.

'That's what I told him but you've got to accept he's still got a bad case of New Commander Syndrome' Tigh responded with a chuckle. 'He doesn't like people interfering with how he runs _his_ ship or telling him he has to transfer _his_ ammunition and _his_ spare parts to another Battlestar.'

'I wish you'd been there when I told him I was sending the Mark II Vipers to The Beast and taking all the new build Mark VII's so both squadrons with _Galactica_ were our best birds' Adama said. 'I'm not getting a card on Father's Day I'll tell you that' he told Tigh with a chuckle of his own.

'Before I forget to tell you Starbuck might be coming to you with a crazy idea to set up a Pyramid Court in one of the bays' Tigh remembered. 'That Anders character she picked up on Caprica wants to get some games going' he said. 'A few of the Marines and a couple of the pilots played College or Semi-Pro and Starbuck thinks we could get a league going' he said.

'I think it's a great idea, probably best to split up Anders from the other two Buccaneers who are coming with us, unfair advantage if all three of them are on the same team' Adama replied. A small number of the civilians who had been on Caprica had volunteered to go back to help search for more survivors, they had a better idea of what the situation was on the ground and so the Admiral had accepted their offer.

'You just don't want the C-Bucs to ever win anything do you Bill?' Tigh asked.

'Nope' Adama confirmed. 'If we somehow find any of the Picon Panthers still alive I'll happily watch them rip the Buccaneers a new one' he said.

'Don't know how you can support a team from another Colony' Tigh commented. He _always_ rooted for the boys and girls from Aerelon when they took the court against someone else. 'It's not like your family is even originally from Picon' he noted, Tigh knew Adama's father was from Tauron though he had emigrated to Caprica before William was born.

'The Panthers play a better game' Adama said simply.

When they arrived at the CIC they found Commander Thorpe waiting there, he had just arrived via Raptor from the surface with two other officers in New Circe style Uniforms. All three saluted and then Thorpe introduced his companions. 'Admiral this is Colonel Richard McEvedy and Wing Commander Sarah-Louise Defoe' he said. 'The Colonel is the ranking SLDF Officer on this expedition and will Command our Ground Forces, the Wing-Commander will lead our Aerospace Fighter Contingent.'

Adama returned the salute as did Tigh. 'McEvedy?' the Admiral repeated quizzically, 'Any relation?' he asked.

'Yes' Thorpe confirmed, 'we preserve the genes of our heroes' he said simply. There were always a few McEvedy's in the 331st, they produced replacements from the Iron Wombs as required although if you asked those concerned they would universally tell you the name was a curse because people always expected more of them than was fair.

Wing Commander Defoe was also a victim of her name too, though for a different reason. She realised it was entirely her own fault for marrying a man with that surname, and taking it herself, but being saddled with a name easily abbreviated to SLDF was a pain especially when she had already been known by the callsign "Star-League" anyway.

'Do they speak any Caprican?' Tigh asked.

'The Wing-Commander has picked up some phrases when flying against the Aggressor Squadrons led by your Kara Thrace but they aren't all that useable in civilised company' Thorpe replied with a smile. 'We've got translation phrasebooks and dictionaries for everyone on the mission however and a few of the pilots and soldiers took Ancient Greek at College.'

'Could be messy if we're flying joint ops Admiral' Tigh commented, 'it gets confusing enough out there in a dogfight as it is without language difficulties' he said.

'Just as long as we aren't actually shooting at each other I'm willing to take a little confusion Saul' Adama replied.

Colonel McEvedy said something to Thorpe. 'The Colonel would like to see where his soldiers will be quartered onboard' Thorpe translated.

'It's one of the cargo holds I'm afraid but we've got space in crew quarters for the Colonel and his officers' Adama replied, Thorpe translating.

McEvedy said something else. 'He says he'll bunk down with his men, as will the other Army Officers, but he appreciates the offer' Thorpe told Adama then Defoe said something in English herself which earned her a dark look from the Colonel. 'The Wing-Commander observed that the ground-pounders are probably just upset they can't dig a muddy hole to sleep in' Thorpe translated for the benefit of the Colonials.

'Sounds like our Marines' Saul Tigh said to the Admiral, inter-service rivalry was another thing the Colonial and New Circe militaries had in common. 'Want me to take the Grunt-In-Chief here to the cargo bay where we're putting him Sir?' he asked.

'No I'll do that, he's the Senior Officer' Adama replied, 'you should take the Wing-Commander to pilot-country' he said. 'Give her the half-cubit tour.'

'I'd better find someone that speaks her language first' Tigh said. 'There was some scruffy bookworm type with a beard translating labels on supply crates I saw just before I met you outside your Cabin, I'll conscript him' he said.

'Their fighters are going to start arriving in the next few hours' Adama told his Executive Officer. 'See that they're properly stacked up in the Landing Pods so they don't interfere with normal traffic.'

'Already got the lines painted to show them where to park' Tigh responded. 'They'd better come in nice and slow because those things are so heavy it'll make the dents Boomer used to put in the deck look like something you could buff out' he said. 'Makes you wonder if the other one the Wolvies have got can't land worth a damn either, was it to make her seem more human or did they just frak up the programming?' he wondered.

'I just hope whoever they've got setting those dropships down on the hull tomorrow does it nice and slow because if we're talking dent those could be pretty impressive' Adama said. Even if _Galactica_ still had all its armour in place thousands of tons of metal crashing into her at any kind of velocity would be bad news, fortunately the pilots flying had had plenty of practice coming into dock with their own capital ships so it should go fine he hoped.

As the expedition back to Kobol and then on from there to the Twelve Colonies grew closer preparations were growing increasingly frenetic. Any people not required for the mission were transferred to other ships, or the surface, and the Battlestar soon filled back up with military and scientific personnel from New Circe. Thousands of civilians were housed in temporary accommodation on the planet as the ships they were on were assigned to the mission, including well over a thousand from the liner _Chrion_ alone, and maintenance crews made sure that all the vessels going were in full working order.

It was volunteer only, Adama was gratified that nearly every one of his people agreed to go, with only a few replacements needed from _Pegasus_, and he was surprised at how many civilians offered to man the other ships including just about all of their own crews. The Admiral guessed that after so long aboard the captains, pilots, navigators and engineers couldn't imagine ever leaving their ships in the hands of others who didn't know and deep-down love them.

On the last day before departure they made the first short test jumps in _Galactica_, an SLDF technician running up the numbers on the new navigational computer New Circe had installed and then those being checked against what Lieutenant Gaeta worked them out to be. They had already performed hundreds of test calculations during which the computer proved not only much faster but also more reliable than the human trying to duplicate its efforts but Adama wanted to do it for real and insisted on the battlestar performing three jumps around the system and then two short interstellar jumps out of the nebula and then back to New Circe before he declared his faith in the computer. They then performed a final check on the FTL Drive and waited for the order from President Roslin and Lord-Protector Vaun to head out.

Chief Tyrol was annoyed to have other aviation engineers and technicians with all their own tools and equipment messing up his maintenance bays but at least they kept to the section he assigned to them and they had a much better idea on how to service and maintain the lasers fitted to the forty Mark VII Vipers _Galactica_ was carrying, twenty port and twenty starboard. There were also now twelve Kirghiz Heavy Aerospace Fighters in each Flight Pod, lined up in a row and pushed to one side of the landing bay, their paint scheme, markings and emblems visibly declaring they were not Colonial craft, in particular the Wolverine Head and Claw marks of the Clan they belonged to emblazoned on their wings stood out next to the more subdued Cameron Star roundels of the SLDF.

It was deeply strange to have hundreds of soldiers and aircrew in someone else's uniform aboard but at least the SLDF favoured a utilitarian olive drab which wasn't all _that_ different from what the Colonials had on even if the cut of their fatigues was different along with the unit patches and rank insignia. One thing that did seem to bother the Marines in particular at first was having SLDF Infantry in combat gear both walking patrols and insisting upon helping to guard important areas, Adama had been reluctant to allow this himself initially but had been swayed by Colonel McEvedy noting that the battlestar had been boarded before and they had lost several crewman and very nearly the ship before the intruders could be taken down. The Colonial marines eventually got used to the company and reasoned heavily armed backup if the Toasters on aboard was to be welcomed at which point their objections shifted more towards jealousy of just how much better equipped the other guys guarding the ship were.

Each Wolverine infantryman had heavy body-armour plus a helmet with a visor that gave them not only Infra-Red vision when required but could also display a video feed to the wearer from a camera fitted to their rifle. It could even provide targeting data as well, helping aim. This would have all been impressive enough if not for the fact the rifle they carried itself was an actual laser, to be specific what the SLDF called a Mauser 960 Pulse Laser with a built-in six-shot automatic grenade launcher.

Even the bayonet the New Circe soldiers used was something special, when activated it vibrated at an insane frequency so it heated up to a point where you could drive it through a reasonable thickness of armoured plate. After testing it against alloy samples they had demonstrated it could be used to gut a Centurion, which at least gave you something to take up against those claws if things got nasty, not that anyone recommended fighting the robots up close.

After so much time not using the FTL Cally had almost forgotten just how much doing one nauseated her but it all came back, along with her lunch, when they started doing the test-jumps. The Thirteenth Tribe called what she suffered from "Transition-Disorientation-Syndrome" and she had learned it was even more common using their Kearny-Fuchida drive, affecting a larger proportion of people. This had in fact been good news for Cally as an SLDF Army Medic being told of her predicament gave her a bottle of pills that had been developed to help people suffering from severe TDS keep their food down. There were some advantages to dating an officer she decided although she dearly wished he hadn't witnessed her run to the nearest available bucket and throw up when he came to visit her on the maintenance bay just as a jump was about to take place.

Second-Lieutenants would normally have never got the opportunity to go on a mission like this but once again the fact he could speak Ancient Greek had paid off big-time for Wolverine Mechwarrior Geoffrey Cale. Not only was he the first guy from New Circe to score with a Colonial Girl, earning him major kudos from his compatriots, but he was assigned the job of piloting one of only six mechs going on the expedition simply on the basis that they couldn't find enough experienced officers that could understand anything the Colonials said. He was five years younger than the next youngest SLDF Officer going to Kobol and the only mechwarrior aboard who didn't have so much as a single kill to his name, even if the other five had only shot up pirate raiders, but this could be a career-making mission he knew. Almost as importantly he got to spend more time with Cally who was the sweetest cutest girl in the galaxy as far as he was concerned, well apart from when she was puking in a bucket anyway he had thought to himself before grimacing and going to find the nearest Army Medic to ask about TDS.

When the order finally came to get underway Adama went on the wireless and told the other ships to make ready to jump when they had been told the coordinates with _Galactica_ going first. Everyone had already said their goodbyes to friends and loved ones staying behind, Saul Tigh privately admitting to his old friend that even though he loved her dearly some time apart from his wife Ellen would be a relief, and it was now just a question of making the first jump back to Kobol.

The new navigational computer calculated a short jump of two light years and after punching it into the FTL and relaying it to the other vessels the old battlestar left New Circe behind, appearing again almost instantly trillions of kilometres away in a flash of light. Over the next minute the other ships appeared alongside and Adama nodded his satisfaction. 'Calculate the next jump' he said. 'Give me five light years this time' he ordered.

After the second jump also went without a hitch the third jump was ten light-years, the next twenty and then finally thirty, a distance that would have been considered risky before. The technician running the navigational computer said that they could go to thirty-five maybe even forty without too much danger but Adama wasn't about to push his luck. If they could maintain a sustained and safe thirty light-years each time then even if they left it a few hours between each one for the sake of the crews and the FTL Drives then it was going to take a _lot_ less time to get to Kobol than it had taken during their less direct course from there to the nebula where they found New Circe.

The Battlestar _Galactica_ was on its way to Kobol and from there it was going home. Those aboard hoped for the best, and they prayed to the gods for the Cylons to be truly long gone from the Twelve Colonies, but they were ready for the worst and they felt comfort in knowing that the enemy was still blissfully ignorant of the fact that Raiders with KEW's and a few missiles just weren't going to cut it in the big leagues any more.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The Triumph Class dropship from BT is a fairly big aerodyne design that can haul a battalions worth of vehicles. Galactica will be carrying two of them (on top) to enable the expedition to deploy a decent sized military force to the surface. The Ripper VSTOL, Chevalier 8-wheeled light tank and Gabriel Hover-Scout were all vehicles used by the SLDF. The Rifleman Mech (an improved Rifleman, twenty tons heavier with LB 5-X Autocannon and Large Pulse Lasers) was issued to the Royal Battlemech Divisions of the Star League so the 331st would likely have had some. New Circe has kept them in service as air-defence units whilst replacing a lot of their other older gear with the Pulverizer II Assault and Mercury III Light (Clan Wolverine had their Pulverizer I and Mercury II when they left the clans, they've developed upgraded replacements for those in the time since but couldn't do so for every weapon type). New Circe doesn't have the population, industry or enough orbital shipbuilding capability to start building huge warships at will. However adding a Colonial Jumpdrive to a Dropship is a different proposition. The Star-League era Overlord Class was common to the clans and they had already upgraded the design to carry heavier armour and more powerful weaponry before the Wolverines left. New Circe has a number of these as well as cargo dropships like the 3,600 ton Union, 11,200 ton Mule and the huge 52,000 ton Mammoth which helped them haul so much of their gear to New Circe originally. The named ships from nBSG were in the Rag Tag Fleet, you can find pictures of them on the battlestar wiki if you want to take a look. If what we saw of Caprica after the Cylon attack is anything to go on there should be masses of material and equipment available for salvage from the colonies, including military hardware, industrial plant and machinery etc etc. For there to still be nuclear weaponry to recover that the enemy was unaware of too I think is likely given that the Cylons don't seem to have completely infilitated every level of the government and miltary. The vast majority would have been destroyed or recovered by the Cylons but there might well be a fair few around in secret bunkers waiting for someone with valid access codes to collect them. _

_Number Three Cylon known as D'anna Biers was working as a TV journalist in the Fleet. The more cooperative Sharon Valerii in this universe saw her on a broadcast and immediately informed the authorities who promptly put her in custody and like the other captured Cylons turned her over to New Circe (which is better than the airlock treatment which had been SOP)._

_Having the Wolverines produce genetic descendents of their dead former Khan is a very clan thing to do, I can definitely see it being a burden for the poor people concerned though. A full Colonel like Richard McEvedy here outranks both a Naval Commander like Thorpe and a Wing Commander like Defoe so he's the most senior SLDF officer on the expedition and would only defer to Adama. SLDF Soldiers had first-rate equipment. The Mauser 960 was their standard-issue infantry rifle (the other clans have upgraded it to the even better Mauser IIC) and it's only major drawback was it's weight. This is mitigated by having 2.1 metre tall genetically engineered grunts and also to some extent by removing the survival kit some idiot who wouldn't have to carry it put in the rifle stock. The vibro-bayonet is a nasty piece of kit, also SLDF standard issue. In both BT and nBSG FTL jumps made some people nauseous, more so in BT it seems, so I thought they might well have developed something to help with that. Cally suffered from this in particular in the show._


	8. Chapter 7

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_I don't like politics and in general I don't like politicians either, I only ended up President in the first place because the forty-two people higher up in the administration than me all died in the Cylon Attack on the Colonies. I wasn't even all that happy to have ended up in a position as minor as Secretary of Education for that matter, I enjoyed teaching I hated yelling at teachers over a negotiating table. Despite all this I think I've done a good job and the opinion polls seem to agree, perhaps the secret to good government is simply preventing anyone who desperately wants to be in charge from ever being so?"_

**President Laura Roslin – 3048CE**

* * *

**Colonial One – New Circe Orbit – 3045 CE**

Laura Roslin was becoming increasingly angry and exasperated with the Quorum who were now yelling at each other over the table, if she could only march in a few marines everything would go so much smoother she decided. Oh to be a tyrant she thought wistfully with an inner sigh as Robin Wenutu the representative for Canceron screamed at Sarah Porter from Gemenon. 'Enough!' Roslin yelled at them all. 'Sit down' she ordered in the tone of voice people jokily referred to as indicating she was in a mood to space someone. 'Marshall you wanted to say something?' she asked the representative for Virgon.

Marshall Bagot looked around. 'I find myself in the position of not being effected one way or another in this dispute for I hope I can act as a voice of moderation here' he said. 'The basic argument is how we divide up the territory on New Circe being ceded to us' he noted, 'We all now agree that the city we build as our capital in the centre of the territory will exist as a Federal District not belonging to any one Colony but all of us together but as regards the surrounding land we are at an impasse' he said.

'The land outside the capital should be divided equally into twelve sections one each for every Colony' Robin Wenutu stated. 'It's the only fair and equitable way' she said.

'If you added the number of people in the fleet from Canceron, Leonis and Aquaria combined then you only just match the Gemonese on their own, how is that a fair distribution of land?' Sarah Porter responded. 'Clearly the territory should be divided according to the number of people who it will be supporting' she said. 'Caprica and Gemenon should get the largest plots by far' she declared.

'As I said the way the numbers work out from either position Virgon still gets around a twelfth of the land so I don't have a dog in this fight' Bagot interjected, 'but I will point out that demographics are bound to chance over time and what do we do in a hundred years if the people from Leonis for example happen to experience a population explosion?' he asked. 'Do we then take some land away from the Capricans or Gemonese to give to them?'

'How likely is that to happen?' Wenutu asked.

'Given that Leonis wasn't populated by luddite religious nuts more likely than you think' the representative for that Colony's people muttered. 'My people are far more likely to adopt the Iron Womb technology we've all been offered than people from certain other colonies' he said.

'That's an offence against the Gods' Wenutu declared, earning a smirk in response.

'And then we should also consider what happens if a plague hits us and devastates one group disproportionately' Bagot noted looking directly at Tom Zarek the member for Sagitaron. 'Your people are less likely to accept antibiotics, antivirals or even vaccinations so should we be ready to take land from you when you start dying en-masse?' he asked rhetorically.

Zarek frowned. 'I can see your point Marshall' he conceded. 'The decisions we make today will have long-lasting ramifications and we need to consider the future not just the present.'

'Beyond land there is also the issue of properly re-establishing the People's Council as the lower house of the legislature' Robin Wenutu noted.

'Where the seats are allocated proportionally to population giving the Gemenese for example more of a say in government' Sarah Porter for Canceron responded knowingly.

'It's called democracy, perhaps you've heard of it' Wenutu replied sarcastically.

'It's the implications of tyranny of the majority I take issue with' Porter told her. 'Well abortion is illegal like the Gemenese always wanted, have you got plans to foist any other religious dogma into law?' she asked.

'The Articles of Colonisation protect the rights of the individual and always will' Roslin stated.

'Abortion is banned by Presidential Decree despite the courts always maintaining that it was a protected right under the Articles' Zarek responded. '_You_ set the precedent there Laura' he said with that smug expression he knew she hated.

'That was necessary given that we needed to ensure the continued survival of the human race Tom' Roslin replied. 'Now that circumstances are different the ban on abortion might not remain in force for very long' she added.

Robin Wenutu looked shocked. 'This is an outrage!' she exclaimed.

'I'm pro-choice, always have been, always said so openly' Roslin reminded her. 'There are trillions more human beings in the galaxy than we ever thought so racial extinction is looking a lot less likely than it did a few months ago' she said. 'That lifts a few burdens on us' she said, and me in particular.'

Wenutu glared at her. 'If you'd have said this before the election...'

'I lost at least half of the fundamentalist religious vote when people found out that the population of New Circe were genetically engineered, don't overstate the importance of your voting block or how much it contributed to me beating Gaius Baltar' Roslin interrupted. 'He was running on an explicitly pro-choice platform himself remember' she said. 'Now as regards dividing up the land I'm going to remind you that there are less than fifty-thousand of us in total and we are going to be living on a planet with over fifteen times that many people and with a population growing faster than ours in percentage terms' she reminded them. 'If we continue to divide ourselves then culturally we are going to become extinct in a few years.'

'What do you mean?' Porter asked.

'Fifty thousand Colonials as a monolithic group might stand a chance of retaining their identity in a sea of Wolverines but we'll have to be Colonials first and Caprican, Tauron or Gemenese second' Roslin told them. 'Despite the arguments and disagreements we have far more common with each other than any of us do with the people of New Circe' she said. 'We need to embrace our similarities and put aside our differences if we believe at all that our culture deserves to survive at all' she continued. 'Unless you want your great-grandchildren to all be two-metre tall genetically-engineered monotheists then we need to change course, right here, right now, today' she insisted.

The Quorum of Twelve all looked at her in silence. 'She's right' Zarek said eventually, 'and you all know how much it pains me to say those words' he added with a smile causing a few to chuckle in response. 'Maybe we need to start thinking of ourselves as say Sagitaron-Colonial, or Caprican-Colonial' he suggested.

'Works for me' Roslin told him. 'Now the Quorum gets to make the call here but I _strongly_ advise that we _don't_ divide up the land and we simply live on it together side by side' she said. 'Not only will it stop all the bickering about how to divide it up it'll also send a message about how we want to live and how we want to survive as a culture.'

'But how do we deal with the legal ramifications?' Marshall Bagot asked. 'Each colony has different laws and some are _radically_ different' he noted.

'Oh well I guess the lawyers can argue that out because I'm not getting involved in _that_ minefield, politics is bad enough' Roslin replied.

'That could take years' Bagot pointed out.

'And on the plus side think of how much more smoothly our society will function with all the lawyers too busy arguing arcane legal points to be organising frivolous lawsuits instead' Roslin joked.

Tom Zarek couldn't help but laugh. 'It could be a Golden Age' he agreed. His own experiences with lawyers generally involved prosecutors trying to get him incarcerated for life or inept defence attorneys.

'I'll leave you to think about it' Roslin told the Quorum, getting up from her chair. 'I have a meeting arranged with Commander Adama on the _Pegasus_' she said. 'Poor boy feels the need to inform me of every little thing' she told them, smiling.

'Of course it is reassuring that the Senior Military Officer present within the fleet has never locked up the President or introduced martial law like his father and Colonel Tigh did' Zarek felt the need to comment.

'Yes, in fact the young Commander has always shown _absolute_ loyalty to the Articles of Colonisation' Roslin replied, 'once drawing his sidearm in their defence in this very room and pointing it at Colonel Tigh when he came to arrest me' she continued. 'We should hope all our Officers took their oath of allegiance so seriously that they placed it before obedience to their superior officers and even their loyalty to their own family' she said.

'So you don't think of it as loyalty to you yourself?' Zarek asked knowingly.

'He's been a thorn in _my_ side on more than one occasion too Tom' Roslin replied. 'I have full confidence in Lee Adama to protect this fleet and its people from all enemies those without and within' she said. 'If I didn't I would never have approved the mission currently being undertaken by Admiral Adama.'

'Well I'm sure you know best' Zarek responded doubtfully.

'Not necessarily best but certainly better than some' Roslin replied coldly, looking him straight in the eyes. Zarek was the enemy within just as much as any remaining Cylon infiltrators were as far as she was concerned and she was gratified that Lee Adama thought so too.

A Raptor sent over from _Pegasus_ collected her from Colonial One and transported her to the huge battlestar that now warded over the fleet alone, well it and the SLDF Battleship orbiting nearby. Twice the mass of _Galactica_ the far more modern Mercury Class ship always seemed a little too shiny, a little too impersonal for Roslin. Thicker armour, more powerful weapons and more viper squadrons didn't make up for the ship's lack of character as she saw it.

At least the Commander let her get away without a formal reception with the ships company in dress uniform as he had done the first time she arrived on _Pegasus_ shortly after his fathers departure a week ago. She and Tory were still met by one of the ships senior officers and a pair of marines who escorted them to the Commanders quarters.

A marine opened the door for her and after entering Lee Adama pulled out a chair for her. Admiral Cains former quarters were much more spacious that those Admiral Adama had on the other battlestar but they were less homely too Roslin decided. Having these chats with the boys father on _Galactica_ always had a more relaxed feel to them even when they were mad at each other.

'Wine?' Roslin queried in surprise as Lee produced a bottle with a label on it written in English.

'I don't know how they managed to produce a grape that would grow in the climate down there but it's really not too bad' Lee told her. 'May I pour you a glass Madam President?' he asked. 'Tory?' he added to her assistant.

'I'll try some' Roslin replied, 'I'm surprised at the offer' she admitted.

'I got the impression you thought I had been too formal when you were here before' Lee told her. 'If you were a man I'd have broken out the hard liquor instead of the wine' he said.

'Well I wouldn't have said no to some Ambrosia but the wine _is_ welcome' Roslin replied. 'A half glass though, it wouldn't be seemly for me to leave here swaying from side to side' she said.

'I'll take just a half-glass too' Tory requested, getting out her notebook in case she needed to record anything.

'If you decide on the other half later I'll have the ship rocked so nobody notices you swaying' Lee told Roslin with a smile. 'How did your meeting with the Lord Protector go yesterday?' he asked.

'She introduced me to a game where you throw little arrows at a round board, she has one in her office' Roslin replied. 'She said that sometimes she puts photographs of members of the Parliament on it when they're annoying her' the President continued. 'It's a fantastic idea, I'm already trying to find pictures of half the Quorum' she joked.

'I won't minute that' Tory decided, laughing as the Commander handed her a glass of wine.

'So how are you and Admiral Franks getting along?' Roslin asked. 'Is there a rapport developing?'

Lee nodded. 'It impacts on my schedule having to attend all the meetings my father used to but I must admit that the more time I spend with Franks the more I like him' he said.

'It's important that we maintain and strengthen our military as well as our political ties with our hosts Commander' Roslin told him, taking a sip from the glass he had handed her. It really wasn't too bad at all she thought, a little sweeter than she would have liked ideally but good nonetheless.

'My father made that perfectly clear before he left' Lee replied. 'You know they'd fight for us' he said with certainty, 'they think we're as weird as we think they are, and I'm not certain I'll ever understand how their society manages to function, but the moment they offered to help defend the fleet from the Cylons that was it' he said. 'Their military is pledged to fight and die for our civilians just as much as they would for their own and I believe they would.'

'People of their word' Roslin responded, raising her glass in a salute to the concept.

'As long as _we_ are Madam President' Lee noted seriously. 'So is there any kind of news as to when we can start building ourselves a new city?' he asked. 'Admiral Franks told me that they have logging crews, civil engineers and construction machinery ready to assist, as well as thousands of offers of volunteers to help put up schools and hospitals.'

Roslin took another sip of her wine. 'It's the planet of the democratic, ideologically liberal, freedom-loving, do-gooder, honour-bound, militaristic weapons-enthusiasts' she said, rolling her eyes. 'Total loons the lot of them' she opined.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Nine days into the mission, hundreds of light-years from New Circe and things were finally setting down into a routine. Everyone now knew to get out of the way when the thunderous sound of two dozen boots hitting the deck simultaneously heralded a platoon of SLDF Infantry on their morning run around the ship, Wing-Commander Defoe had learned the hard way why nobody in a Colonial Uniform _ever_ ordered the scrambled eggs for breakfast in the ships mess hall (apparently the powered stuff had been in storage since the First Cylon War) and Kara Thrace unusually found herself both totally lost for words and bright red with embarrassment when Saul Tigh of all people found her screwing Samuel Anders on the new Pyramid Court after a late-night "Practice Session" before the first game of the season.

Unaware of why his CAG was currently unable to look his XO in the face Adama guessed they had simply had one of their routine arguments with Tigh winning the latest round and he ignored it as he addressed the viper pilots in the briefing room. 'We're not going to be jumping around for twelve hours' he told them, 'that gives us an opportunity to run some live-fire exercises with the new lasers and to do some more aggressor squadron work with the Wolverines' he said.

'Raptors are going to deploy some target drones for you to shoot up' Thrace told them. 'I want you all to be comfortable with your new weaponry before we ever have to use them for real' she continued. 'I also want you to fly your guts out when you come up against those big frakkers later on today' she said. 'The sharper we can make them, the more they know about how to fly against a bird as manoeuvrable as ours, the better they'll handle themselves against the Raiders' she said. 'We'll also be running an experimental formation later on, twelve Kirghiz plus ten Vipers versus the other thirty Vipers.'

'So fighters escorting fighters?' Hotdog queried.

'Right first time, you win a cookie' Starbuck told him. 'During the closing stage of the fight we expect the PPC's and Pulse Lasers on the Wolvie fighters to swat down enemy aircraft like crazy at long range but once you get tangled together it's not so easy for a hundred tons of Kirghiz to keep up' she said. 'They've got what they call LB-X Autocannon firing cluster rounds, and any Raiders that get in front of one are totally frakked, but the Cylons are soon going to learn to keep the frak away from _that_ shitstorm' she stated.

'Are they using the same lasers as us?' Lieutenant Clellan asked. He had forty confirmed kills and was generally considered one of the top viper-jocks on _Galactica_.

'No we're carrying what they call a Medium Laser, one of them and stripped down slightly because a Viper can't generate enough power to make it work to its full potential' Starbuck replied. 'The Kirghiz is carrying two Large Pulse Lasers with more range and twice the firepower apiece' she told them, 'and the two Long-Range PPC's go even further and put out better than another fifty-percent of pain on top of that' she continued. 'They'll turn a Raider to _vapour_, I shit you not' she declared.

Hotdog leaned forward in his chair. 'How do their autocannons stack up with our KEW's' he asked.

'If we're talking 30 millimetre like ours they've got two kinds' Starbuck told him, 'the LB-X has maybe half our rate of fire but can shoot those cluster rounds as well as standard loads' she began. 'Their Ultra Autocannon in the same calibre has our rate of fire but can't shoot the cluster ammo and is less reliable, it jams _much_ more often' she told them. 'Both types have an edge on us in muzzle velocity, they're not shooting from a ten ton airframe so recoil and vibration is less of a problem' she noted.

'Our engineers and theirs are designing a new autocannon that borrows from both designs and the feed system from our point-defence guns as well' Adama chipped in. 'It'll be a fifty-millimetre with our reliability and rate of fire, their muzzle-velocity and can still fire the cluster rounds' he said. 'You won't be seeing it on a Viper but you could hang a pair on a Kirghiz or a Raptor without rattling it apart... I'm told.'

'I guess the Raptor crews were complaining we got a new toy to play with and they didn't' Kat said loudly from where she was seated at the back. 'You wait until the first one of those guys makes ace, we won't hear the last of it' she joked to laughter from the other pilots.

'If you fired two of those things full-auto into a Raider Squadron packed together they could make ace with the first salvo' Hotdog observed. 'That's not aerial combat, that's spraying the frakking hose of death over the enemy' he exclaimed.

'And now it's already got a nickname' Starbuck responded. 'The Fifty-Millimetre HOD' she declared, 'nice one Hotdog.'

'Hey, if any of you need a new call-sign let me know' Hotdog responded to the CAG's praise with a grin.

Admiral Adama turned to Starbuck. 'Just make sure the camera-guns show that we took out enough Wolverines to save face' he told her.

'You can count on me Sir' the CAG told him.

'I always can' Adama replied with certainty. 'So are we going to see you on the Pyramid Court at the game tonight?' he asked.

'Hopefully less of you than I caught last night' Tigh quipped with a smirk on his face.

In the starboard flight pod Chief Tyrol was making sure all the vipers were ready for launch, they already had the CAP out but as soon as the CAG finished talking to her pilots they were going to be launching a full squadron and he didn't want any hitches. 'You're certain that software glitch you found in that bird we transferred from _Pegasus_ is purged now?' he asked Seelix.

'Avionics is one-hundred percent Chief' Seelix replied confidently. 'I also helped Jammer synchronise the guns on a couple of the new-builds' she continued, 'I don't think they're doing all the last-minute checks they should be doing on The Beast when they build them' she said. 'Everything works, they're just not making sure it all works at the same time.'

Tyrol frowned. 'You checked the other new-build vipers?' he asked.

'Yeah and Figurski and Pollux are doing the same for the squadron in the port flight pod' Seelix replied. 'I thought I'd better pass it on to them' she said.

'Good initiative' Tyrol told her. 'Are you bucking for promotion or something?' he asked. 'Gunning for my job maybe?' he added with a smile.

'No I'm ambitious' Seelix replied grinning back, 'I'm hoping to get into the pilot training program eventually' she told him. 'If _Pegasus_ is going to keep churning out new Mark VII's they'll soon need more pilots to fly them than we've got' she pointed out. If they ever managed to get both battlestars up to their full complement of squadrons they would in fact need a _lot_ more pilots than they currently had in order to fly the two hundred and eighty vipers the _Pegasus_ and _Galactica_ could potentially field between them.

'Word of advice' Tyrol told her, 'you'd better start training someone else up in avionics if you ever expect me to call you Sir because good specialists are harder to find than throttle and joystick monkeys' he advised.

'Good call Chief' Seelix replied. 'Cally is fraternising again' she told him, pointing across the bay.

'Oh for frak's sake' Tyrol swore, stomping towards his wayward deckhand. 'Cally you're at work' he called out. 'Get back to checking the welds on those laser mountings' he ordered. 'And as for you _Sir_' he continued, looking straight at the officer in the SLDF mechwarrior uniform who had been talking to Cally, 'if you haven't got anything constructive to do yourself I've got a coolant stain on the deck there that could be scrubbed clean' he told him.

Cale looked at the Chief. 'I just stopped by because I was on the way to the gym Chief' he said.

'Then go exercise' Tyrol told him.

'I'd better go' the Wolverine Lieutenant told Cally who promptly reached up and grabbed him by the collar so she could pull his head down low enough to kiss him on the cheek before heading back towards the Viper she had been working on.

As Cale headed off Tyrol gave Cally a stern look. 'Stop grinning about your love-life' he told her, 'and if I see him here again I'll report him' he said.

'I've been outside floating in zero gee looking over the hull and it's been less stomach churning than watching those two holding hands and talk mushy to each other' Seelix observed loudly.

'There is no romance on my deck' Tyrol declared loudly. 'There is only aircraft maintenance' he said with finality. 'Anyone I see loafing in any way gets to stay on after their work shift' he announced. 'That coolant stain over there still needs scrubbing clean and unless you want to join Cally later making the deck sparkle like new you will _all_ develop a work ethic' he said. 'I'll be over on the Port Pod for the next hour and I know how much work you should have been able to get done by the time I get back so don't try and be clever' he advised.

Seelix watched the Chief head off to the other side of the ship. 'He's getting crankier, we need to get him laid' she joked. 'And no, I'm not volunteering' she added.

'I'm spoken for' Cally stated happily. 'I guess it's up to Marcie then' she suggested, indicating the only other female deckhand present.

Marcie pulled her head out from a viper cockpit. 'No way' she said. 'Why don't we try and set him up with one of those Wolvie girls?' she suggested.

'They're two metres tall and look like they could rip your spleen out through your nose' Seelix pointed out.

'He used to frak a cylon, _anything_ human is a step up from that' Marcie responded.

'Good point, well made' Seelix had to concede.

Over in the medical bay Doctor Cottle narrowed his eyes at the SLDF Army Surgeon who had decided to impose himself on Galactica's Medical Bay. 'What did he say again?' he asked the middle-aged New Circe historian with the beard from Sundquist's Team who was acting as a translator.

The historian shuffled his feet and looked at the deck. 'After examining the patient you treated earlier Doctor Ljungberg wondered if you still bored a hole in people's heads to let out the evil spirits when they have a headache too' he translated again.

Cottle put down the cigarette he had been smoking. 'And what exactly did he mean by that?' he asked coldly.

The historian translated Cottle's words and the subsequent reply. 'Doctor Ljungberg says the medical technology and techniques you are using are like something from the Dark Ages on Terra' he said. 'That's hyperbole however, your equipment and pharmaceuticals are twenty-first century or late twentieth century at worst, the dark ages were well over a thousand years before that' he added himself. 'It's the thirty-first century of our calendar now' he added in case the Colonial didn't know.

'Tell the _Doctor_ that I've been saving lives since before he was born' Cottle responded angrily, 'and _then_ tell him that if he has any specific second-opinions to make regarding the treatment or diagnosis of my patients he can go right ahead and make them, but that I'm not going to let him inject Colonial personnel with any medications I'm totally unfamiliar with and nor am I going to let him spray that plastic crap over any wounds regardless of how effective it's supposed to be at sterilising the area and speeding the healing rate until I'm _certain_ there aren't any side-effects or possible allergic reactions' he declared forcefully. 'I'll be telling the Admiral this is the policy, and where medicine is concerned on this ship my word is the law' he stated firmly.

Ljungberg took a deep breath after Cottle's words were converted to English. He put his hands behind his back and said something else in reply. 'The Doctor says he is going to establish a clinic to treat Colonial patients and requests access to whatever you use as a local anaesthetic if you are going to prohibit him from using ours' the historian translated.

'What kind of clinic?' Cottle wanted to know.

'Laser eye surgery' the historian explained, 'only lostech worlds still use glasses' he said.

'Oh he's not doing _that_ without my permission' Cottle replied. 'And until I'm sure of the technique and that he won't accidentally blind some poor son-of-a-bitch, it's not given' he said.

The historian raised his eyebrows at Cottle's words but translated them for Ljungberg nonetheless. The New Circers talked amongst themselves for a short time until the historian turned back to Cottle. 'Um you do know we can clone replacement organs right?' he asked. 'Or even put in cybernetic prosthetics in some cases if necessary' he continued. 'Eyes, kidneys, limbs...' he said before trailing off. 'You might want to think about a new set of lungs at some point' he suggested, indicating the stubbed out remains of Cottle's cigarette.

'So where do you think he keeps the leeches?' Doctor Ljungberg asked the historian in English, looking around.

* * *

**Cloud 9 – New Circe Orbit – 3045CE**

Kaarlo Hennessy leafed through the papers in front of him, at least they had provided an office with a desk, albeit both small he thought ruefully. It had been a supply closet before and was now nothing but the desk, two chairs a few piles of paperwork and bare steel walls. Hennessy had been onboard this ship now for five days, ever since relieving the last poor bastard who both had the misfortune to speak any "Caprican" and worked for the New Circe Ministry of Justice, and he was starting to get extremely tired of sitting here answering stupid questions from Colonials worried about settlement on the planet. Someone in Parliament had suggested it might be a nice gesture if the Star League In Exile was represented by a friendly civilian face and so (after clearing it with President Roslin and the Quorum) any anxious Colonial Citizen seeking reassurance could now go talk to whatever poor slob got assigned the job of mollycoddling them. Not that Hennessy's job description described his duties that way of course.

As Hennessy read through his notes he occasionally took a piece of candy from the bag on the desk next to them, hoping to finish for the day soon and head to the closest bar. A knock on the door indicated someone else had decided to pay him a visit however and he checked his watch and was appalled to find out there were still two minutes to go until he would be entitled to close up. 'Come in' he said dejectedly, still reading his papers and starting to add additional notations in red ink, substituting for ill-chosen phrases that were best left off the version he would type up such as crossing out "Archetypal Sagitaron Fruitloop" and replacing it with "Colonial with faith-based concerns".

The door opened but Hennessy didn't look up, he heard someone enter and close the door behind them as he edited another passage of notes. 'Please take a seat I'll be with you shortly' he said.

'I want to claim asylum' a woman's voice announced, she was still standing near the closed door.

Hennessy sighed. 'Monotheist?' he queried.

'Well yes but...' the woman responded, moving closer.

'Please fill in Form 6B asking the government of New Circe to offer you asylum on grounds of religious persecution' Hennessy interrupted, still looking down at his papers. 'I am authorised to tell you it is likely to be granted but you may have to wait three to four days for the paperwork to be processed and your case to be formally considered and voted upon by a panel of judges' he told her. 'Please note however that if you _do_ claim asylum and settle outside the borders of the Colonial City-State that this will necessitate the compulsory learning of English and taking New Circe citizenship' he continued in a bored monotone voice. 'I am also required to tell you that said citizenship obliges you to undertake two years compulsory service in the Armed Forces if you are under the age of forty' he said, 'although if you are philosophically pacifist you can serve as a medic or engineer and will not have to carry a firearm' he added.

'No you don't understand' the woman told him. 'I'm... I'm a cylon' she whispered, half leaning over the desk towards him.

Hennessy groaned. 'Not another one' he muttered to himself, looking up at her. 'Lady you're the ninth person that's come to me since I got here who told me they were a Cylon' he said. 'Two of them were teenagers who thought it would be funny, the other six are either medicated or in counselling' he told her. 'I've got a card for a very nice psychiatrist around here somewhere' he continued, looking around for it.

Gina Inviere reached behind her head and removed the band which was holding her hair in place. 'No, I really am a Cylon' she insisted. 'Look at me' she told him.

Hennessy stopped looking for the card and looked at the woman again, tilting his head to one side. 'Alright there's a definite resemblance to the blond one' he admitted, 'but...'

Gina shook her head so her hair fell into place and then she took off her glasses. 'Cylon' she said, pointing to herself with the hand that was also holding the glasses she had been wearing as part of her simple but surprisingly successful disguise.

As Hennessy stared at her his eyes widened. 'Fucking hell!' he exclaimed in English.

Gina didn't understand the words but the tone and expression were fairly self-explanatory. 'Not here to kill you' she told him calmly, 'just here to claim asylum' she said.

'You're shitting me?' the incredulous Hennessy replied in English. 'I mean, you can't be serious?' he asked in Caprican.

'Everyone in this fleet is going to be heading towards the surface soon' Gina told him, 'they're already putting up temporary housing' she said. 'I've been hiding out, avoiding being seen as much as I could, but if I tried to get on a shuttle full of people I'd probably be recognised and I don't want to be captured by _them_ again' she told him with honest sincerity. 'If suicide wasn't a sin I'd rather kill myself' she said, sitting down across from him and trying to look inoffensive. She already looked pretty nervous which was her actual emotional state.

Hennessy wished he was carrying his service automatic but both it and his assault-rifle were locked up at home along with those belonging to his wife. They both still had a few more years to serve in the ready reserves until they reached forty and would either hand them back in then or sign up for another voluntary decade in the secondary reserves, they hadn't decided yet, but regardless of that future decision he currently wished he had thrown his pistol in with his spare underwear as had crossed his mind when packing for the shuttle. 'Why do you think turning yourself over to us would be any better than the Colonial Military?' he asked, wondering if he should call for help or if that would just lead to the machine snapping his neck.

'I'm not being... interrogated by the Colonial Fleet again' Gina told him, voice shaky as she did so. 'I'm just hoping that you're different' she said. 'I want to claim asylum, I know you'll just throw me in a cell, you might shoot me even, but what other option do I have?' she asked rhetorically.

'You could throw yourself out of an airlock' Hennessy suggested, immediately wishing he hadn't said it because the crazed thing might try and kill him now.

'I told you' Gina replied curtly, 'suicide is a mortal sin against the One True God' she declared.

'Great, a damn Robo-Catholic' Hennessey said to himself in English.

'Is your word good?' Gina asked him.

'What?' Hennessy responded in confusion.

'Is your word good?' Gina repeated. 'If you promised to grant me asylum would you?' she asked.

'Yes but I haven't agreed that' Hennessey replied evenly and with less fear in his voice than he felt. 'I don't even have the authority.'

'Then I'm leaving' Gina said, getting up.

'I can't let you go without raising an alarm and trying to stop you' Hennessey told her, getting up as well.

'That genetic engineering you people did to yourselves isn't enough to take on one of my kind' Gina responded. 'If I decide to kill you then that's it, you're dead' she told him. She wouldn't be able to play with him a little like she could with a Colonial but he'd still lose.

Hennessy looked her in the eyes. 'I may just be a bureaucrat but I'm Clan Wolverine' he stated with some passion. 'You're not going _anywhere_' he told her, heart pounding in his chest, wondering if the death of a pencil-pushing desk-jockey would warrant a line in the epic poem of the Clan's history known as the Wolverine Remembrance and doubting it.

Gina didn't want to kill him, she looked towards the floor. 'If I surrendered to you would you hand me over to your own government or the Fleet?' she asked.

'My own government' Hennessey told her after a few seconds to think about it.

'Can you promise they wouldn't send me straight back to President Roslin in chains' Gina asked, raising her head and looking for a sign of deception in his expression.

'No' Hennessey replied.

The cylon considered her position. 'You're a man of your word' she decided. 'I surrender to you as a representative of your government' she told him. 'Tell them that if they _do_ try and send me back to the custody of the Colonial Fleet they'll have to kill me first' she said flatly, it was a simple statement of fact.

'I'll let them know' Hennessy replied, this day was ending in a much more dynamic fashion than it had begun he thought to himself as the adrenaline which had been pumping through his system started to wear off.

To Hennessy's surprise the Cylon walked across to the far corner of the room and sat down on the deck there facing the doorway. She pulled her knees up to her chin and put her arms around her legs as if hugging them into a protective ball. 'If you go and call your people on the wireless I'll be here when you get back' she promised. 'You can lock me in if you like' she added quietly.

When he returned after five minutes of trying to persuade his superiors he was being serious Hennessy unlocked his office and found her still there in the corner, though now rocking back and forth. From what he had heard the other Cylons in detention on New Circe weren't like this and he suspected she was broken in either machine terms or else in psychological ones. Having no training in either robotics or psychiatry Hennessy improvised and offered her one of the pieces of candy from the bag on his desk instead. It usually worked on his kids as a means to cheer them up.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_Some colonies had far more survivors amongst the fleet than others, the Capricans and Gemonese appearing to be the most numerous. If the land grant was going to be carved up they would want it to be according to population whereas colonies with only a few survivors would be thinking very differently._

_I've decided to go with the idea that the Viper (and Raider) 30mm KEW's have the general performance of a battletech Ultra AC/2 but with a lower muzzle velocity (more range than a Heavy Machine Gun, less than a normal AC/2). The 50mm "HOD" is basically an LB-X Ultra AC/5 that doesn't jam and will end up fitted to Raptors, Wolverine Mechs and Aerospace Fighters in due course. Medical technology in Battletech was much better than what they had in nBSG (as long as you weren't on a Lostech world). The Wolverines have all the old Star League techniques and some of the Clan developed ones, they can fix a surprising amount of physical damage. I can't see the gruff Doctor Cottle taking too kindly to having a Wolverine Doc with a condescending attitude around regardless of his skills or advanced techniques though!_

_Facing imprisonment again made Gina regress somewhat to her traumatised state at the end there, being locked up didn't help. I thought introducing an ordinary New Circe civilian might be a nice touch, Kaarlo Hennessy is just a random guy that works for a government department that happened to speak some Ancient Greek and so got dragged out of his normal career._


	9. Chapter 8

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_The Ha'la'tha Crime Syndicate managed to get established soon after the bulk of the Colonial population had settled on New Circe and after a while they felt confident enough to try and expand operations to the other side of the border. This was a short lived enterprise however once it became established that despite us having a fairly liberal court system the sentences meted out by Wolverine Judges once a guilty verdict was reached can be a touch draconian... in the sense that people from the Draconis Combine would consider them a little harsh at times. The first Tauron gangster to be told he was going to be serving twenty-five years for trying to set up a minor smuggling operation fainted in court when he found out that meant hard labour in a germanium mine on an airless moon and New Circe didn't have parole."_

**Captain Marcus Thorpe, SLDF Intelligence – 3048CE **

* * *

******City of the Gods – Kobol – 3045CE**

Admiral Adama looked up as one of the VSTOL aircraft their companions called a "Ripper" howled overhead, going probably a little too fast and definitely a little too low before it headed off north, just barely clearing the treetops as it disappeared. The two hulking dropships which had landed on a flat area of relatively solid ground two kilometres from the dig site had unloaded eight of the light aerial transports and these were being used to carry small survey and scout teams around the region, greatly spreading up the process of mapping and exploration. 'Fusion powerplants?' he asked Commander Thorpe who was walking beside him as they headed towards the makeshift camp which had been established near the ruins.

'Yes' Thorpe confirmed, 'plenty of range and good performance' he said. 'They're usually intended to drop off an Infantry squad behind enemy lines so the pilots train to fly in low and fast under the Radar.'

'No DRADIS to worry about here' Adama pointed out.

'I'm sure if you asked the Army Pilots flying those things they would say they're keeping it up for practice and its got nothing at all to do with it being the most fun they can justify having with their girlfriend or boyfriend over a thousand light-years away.' Thorpe replied. 'If I was twenty years younger and a better pilot _I'd_be doing it' he admitted as Adama smiled.

The Kobol System had been empty when they arrived, Raptors jumping ahead of the fleet had confirmed no Cylon presence before _Galactica_and then the civilian ships were brought into orbit. Even then the civilian archaeological and survey personnel weren't landed until Vipers had made a series of high and low-level reconnaissance runs right across the planet and Marines had checked out the chosen landing site to verify the situation on the ground.

A pair of large eight-wheeled armoured-vehicles watched over the scientists and historians digging up the remains of what had once been a sprawling metropolis, and dozens of Colonial Marines and SLDF Infantry stood ready for action, but so far the only excitement had been coming from the people who were excavating the ruins. Cries of joy could be heard as another interesting relic was unearthed, Sundquist and his people were clearly having the time of their lives.

The historian himself was some kilometres away examining the Tomb of Athena. It had of course been one of the first sites to be investigated and once the Arrow of Apollo had been placed in the statue of Sagittaron once more the hologram had once again been activated showing the supposed location of Earth relative to twelve constellations. Sundquist had looked at the stars and after a few seconds had announced "They're wrong" noting that although the patterns were similar to the ones that could be seen from Earth they had been drawn in the sky from different stars and besides which over time constellations move. The Colonials had been intrigued to learn, though many still denied it because it conflicted with their scriptures, that the Zodiac dated to civilisations that existed on Earth long before the Thirteenth Tribe supposedly left Kobol to settle there.

As they neared the camp Adama spotted a man and a woman slowly pulling a large flat box on wheels over the ground by ropes, he turned to Thorpe and gave him a quizzical look. 'Ground penetrating Radar' Thorpe explained. 'It can look metres down into the soil to see what's underneath' he said. 'If they find something good they call over a crew to dig it up, otherwise they're just mapping the foundations of the old city' he told him. 'According to someone I talked to earlier so far it's looking like that illustration from the Scrolls of Pythia is pretty accurate.'

'The City of the Gods' Adama said, looking around. 'I'm surprised the Cylons didn't dig it up' he remarked.

'Not _their_Gods, or really their history as they see it I guess?' Thorpe suggested.

'You don't think its _your_history either but you people are interested' Adama noted.

'We know for a fact that there were civilisations on Terra long before the dates given in your Holy Books and that humanity evolved there' Thorpe replied. 'It's what, supposedly less than four thousand years since the Thirteenth Tribe left here to go to Earth?' he continued, 'Well there's a town there called Jericho which has been more or less continually inhabited for _twelve_thousand so it's hard to square that circle' he said.

Adama stopped walking. 'Our scholars are having a hard time accepting that' he replied. 'And not just the religious ones' he added.

'We were careful to not spring it on you too quickly but you had to be told eventually' Thorpe replied apologetically. 'Your languages and cultures indicate that somehow you originally came from Earth around four and a half thousand years ago' he said. 'Both Caprican and the Tauron dialect in particular clearly evolved from the Ancient Greek spoken at around the time of the Trojan Wars, and there are other interesting holdovers from other contemporary Terran cultures such as the Proto-Italic influences to be found on Colonies like Aerilon where the names are Latin' he continued. 'Some of your worlds also had a few Roman and Egyptian deities as well as the Greek Gods in their respective pantheons and there's even a few Hebrew traces' he noted. 'Having taken Ancient Terran History as my major at College I think it's all fascinating.'

'We're going to take a lot of convincing of all this you know' Adama told him as they continued on their way.

'Which is why we want to radiocarbon date our finds here, dig for any signs of inhabitation more than five thousand years ago and take ice-cores at the poles to examine the atmospheric composition back even further' Thorpe replied. 'The plant and animal life here like the examples you had with the fleet are all Earth species, although selective breeding of things like food crops in particular mean your cereals for example have diverged more than a little from ours.'

'I'm never going to get used to the taste of your bread' Adama stated as they arrived at the camp and found tables had been set out with dishes of food being laid out for lunch on them. 'And a sandwich is supposed to have a filling between two slices of the stuff' he commented, looking down at a plate of rye bread smörgås open-faced sandwiches with salmon on them.

'That's more of a New Circe Scandinavian-inherited thing' Thorpe told him as he looked over the Smörgåsbord buffet appreciatively. 'The Wolverines didn't really have anything remotely like a cuisine of our own so we adopted the one that the Richmond prisoners had' he said. 'They were mostly from the Rasalhague worlds which is why New Circe has the best Palt Dumplings rimward of there' he said proudly.

'Palt?' Adama queried.

'Those things' Thorpe explained pointing to a bowl of them. 'Grab a plate, try some of this' he advised, handing the Admiral one plus a fork and taking one for himself as the SLDF cooks who had been preparing the meal announced it was ready, calling it out in both English and badly accented Caprican.

It was a pleasant enough day, sunny and much warmer and drier than New Circe tended to be Adama decided and he found a crate to sit on as he ate his meal. The Wolverine Infantry assigned to help the survey teams dig or hump equipment around had long abandoned their body-armour for khaki t-shirts although they kept both weapons and armour nearby and they were sweating in the unaccustomed heat as they started to arrive along with the New Circe scientists and Colonial military personnel.

Thorpe went to see Colonel McEvedy leaving Adama on his own for a short time before Racetrack wandered over to him wearing her flight-suit unzipped to the waist, the top half tied around her. 'Nice day Admiral' she greeted him.

'Nice to be out in the open air without freezing your butt off Lieutenant' Adama agreed. 'Not eating?' he asked.

'I've got someone getting me a plate together' Racetrack told him.

'You're not supposed to use your ECO as a servant' Adama chided.

'Oh it's not Skulls, he's getting his own' Racetrack replied, 'I've got a Wolvie Tank Commander putting it together for me' she said with a grin. 'I made out I had no idea what half of it was and he was the most senior of the guys that jumped up to help' she explained. If you were female, decent to look at (ideally not blond) and were much under a hundred and seventy centimetres you could pretty much get them to do anything you wanted she had soon found. It worked the other way of course, plenty of Colonials were to be found trying to score with the tall and athletic New Circers. A Corporal in the Colonial Marines who liked hitting the free-weights in the gym had supposedly persuaded an SLDF APC Driver into his bunk despite the language difficulties, though the mechanics of how they would both fit in there let alone manage to do much was an ongoing mystery.

'You've got the polar mission later, don't get your ship stuck in a snowdrift or I might leave you there for a while as punishment' Adama told her trying some meatballs, spearing one with a fork before taking a bite. Not too bad he decided as he chewed.

'Ah you wouldn't leave the civvies there Sir' Racetrack responded knowingly.

Adama swallowed. 'Oh I'd have _them_ rescued straight away, and maybe get one of those dropships to pull your Raptor out of the snow' he continued, 'I'll just leave _you_ there on the ice until its time for the _Galactica_to head out' he said.

Racetrack thought he was kidding but you could never be completely certain. 'I'll make sure the spot I choose to land on is a good one' she promised as a Lieutenant in SLDF Uniform, the unit insignia on his left shoulder indicating he was from an armoured formation, handed her a plate of food earning a beaming smile in response which he returned before walking back to his colleagues wishing he spoke her language. 'I should have told them I'm not keen on the pickled herring' she said, ignoring it and starting with a piece of crisp bread. 'See you later Sir' she told him, leaving the Adama to his own meal and his thoughts.

The Admiral turned on his improvised chair so he was looking back towards the ruins. He was glad he had decided to come down here, it was certainly more relaxed than his previous visit to Kobol, thanks to a lack of Cylons and homicidal supporters of Tom Zarek, and it was reassuring to watch his people and the Wolverines working together smoothly.

'Lords of Kobol!' someone exclaimed loudly and Adama looked around to see one of his Marines staring off into the distance. Adama stood up to get a better look and saw that one of the dropships had unloaded a pair of the huge piloted robots the Thirteenth called "Battlemechs" and they were heading towards the ruins at walking pace, their ten-metre tall frames making up the ground fast with long strides. As he watched one of them increased its pace and then broke into what amounted to a run hitting close to two-hundred kilometres an hour as it pounded along the ground for a few hundred yards before slowing again.

'MASC gear' Commander Thorpe said, appearing beside Adama with Colonel McEvedy. 'It allows a battlemech to sprint for a short distance' he explained, 'most aren't fitted with it, only light mechs used for scouting, reconnaissance or hit and run' he said.

'How "Light" is that thing?' Adama asked, staring at the machines.

'Only thirty tons' Thorpe replied. 'The other mechs we've got with us, the Rifleman II's, they weigh in at eighty but they don't have hands so they can't be used to help out with the work like the Mercury III's there can' he said.

'Mercury, like the class of Battlestars the _Pegasus_comes from' Adama noted. 'On some of the Colonies it's what they call the God Hermes' he said.

'The Roman and Greek pantheons were almost interchangeable, the latter influenced the former quite a lot' Thorpe observed. 'Zeus and Jupiter, Hera and Juno...'

'Ares and Mars, Enyo and Bellona' Adama interjected with the Gods and Goddesses of war, always close to the heart of a military man. 'Same deities, different names' he said. 'It caused a lot of theological debate when Caprica became the first colony to regain spaceflight and contacted the others to find out some had different religions but when it was decided it was mostly just a naming issue things calmed down' he said.

McEvedy said something to Thorpe. 'The Colonel asks if you're enjoying your lunch' he translated for Adama.

'Thank the Colonel and his troops for offering to feed our people as well as his own and say that the Colonial Fleet will return the favour tomorrow' he said hoping a sampling of traditional Caprican, Tauron and Geminon cuisine would be well received. He had more personnel from those worlds than any others and he had a few decent cooks on Galactica's crew.

Thorpe translated and the Colonel smiled and nodded his acknowledgement to the Admiral. You had to make gestures like these, it was sometimes the little things like sharing a meal together that might make you hang together if things turned nasty, identifying with someone made all the difference. During the First Cylon War, when the Colonies were still far from united, Adama still recalled flying low over Leonis with a Picon Viper pilot as his new wingman. As the sun had risen ahead of them they had both watched the dawn out of their cockpits, the pilots flying alongside each other, not really knowing each other too well because you didn't socialise a great deal with people from other Colonies as a rule back then. Then the Picon pilot, who had been quiet until then, had said simply, "This is one of _our_ worlds and the frakking Cylons can't have it" and right there Adama had felt like a _human_ not a Caprican of Tauron descent. You _had_to hang together or the Toasters would surely hang you separately.

They ended up spending two weeks on Kobol, the City of the Gods yielded up less answers than Professor Sundquist had been hoping for but as the fleet packed up and set out again towards the Twelve Colonies the results of the analysis of what they had found started to cause some concern amongst the Colonials. This was not least because when they checked what the Thirteenth were saying as best they could with their own equipment it verified an uncomfortable truth.

Before five thousand years ago there was no record of any industrialisation on Kobol present in the ice cores, nor was there any evidence of any of the currently indigenous plant or animal life to be found when you dug down very far at all, certainly not the millions of years worth of fossils there should have been. Human remains were located in several places but again none seemed to be more than five thousand years old and every attempt at using carbon-dating to verify the numbers confirmed the same result.

Humanity was _not_from Kobol, in fact it looked like it had been terraformed five millennia ago much like the Twelve Colonies had been three thousand years later by people fleeing the catastrophe which had destroyed the City of the Gods. Those in the fleet who believed in the literal truth of the Sacred Scrolls refused to believe the findings, and many were heard to say that the Thirteenth must have faked everything in order to support their heretical view that humanity came from Earth, but the majority soon began to accept that Kobol was not their homeworld. This all raised a new major question though of course, which the people of New Circe had been trying to answer for a while themselves already with no luck. Since the "Thirteenth Tribe", who were apparently nothing of the sort, could provide a mass of documentary evidence that Earth was still in the Bronze Age back when humanity came to Kobol, with iron about to become the great technological breakthrough of the era, how the hell did people travel well over three thousand light-years to another planet and terraform it?

It was fervently hoped that the relics taken from Kobol to the Colonies still to be found in Museums back there might hold some of the answers once they were examined by historians far more familiar with Earth history. Commander Thorpe for one was still pushing the idea of people from Atlantis being responsible and was gaining support for his hypothesis simply because other than the marginalized UFO nuts who thought it must have been aliens nobody else had any suggestions at all.

As _Galactica_ and its fleet jumped away from Kobol a single Cylon Raider which had been lurking almost completely powered-down and inert far from the planet amongst some asteroidal debris waited until the Raptor they had left behind to check they weren't being followed finally departed as well and then the autonomous self-aware fighter powered up its systems and span up its FTL Drive. Not being all that curious by nature the Raider didn't wonder why the Colonials might have returned to Kobol it simply jumped towards the nearest Basestar to report they had, along with the news that the _Galactica_and a handful of smaller vessels seemed to be travelling separate from the main fleet that was presumably still being guarded by the more capable _Pegasus_.

The Cylons had wondered if the refugees might send an expedition back to check whether they had really vacated the Twelve Colonies, and it was considered possible for them to take a route back that included another stop-off at Kobol so it wasn't all that big a surprise to their leadership when _Galactica_turned up as it did. After failing to locate the fleet after a sweep of nearby star-systems they estimated how long it would take the humans to get to Cyrannus and formulated a strategy on how to handle them when they got there. With the famous Caprica Six and Boomer Eight steering public opinion they wouldn't attack the Colonials of course, this was the new "Caring, sharing, cloyingly saccharin to the point of being vomit-inducing" Cylon Regime as a One had wryly called it after all, but there was a school of thought that said perhaps God wanted them to protect and nurture the humans and so they should, regardless of the Colonials own feelings on the matter.

As machines given all the variables the Cylons were very good at calculation, unfortunately for them they were ignorant of several new factors now in play. These included the fact that the _Galactica_ was now travelling on average six times as far per jump as it had before, meaning it would be arriving back at the Colonies far, _far_ earlier than might have been expected otherwise. They also of course had no reason to suspect that the simultaneous appearance of several basestars worth of Raiders wasn't quite as intimidating as it used to be.

* * *

**Colonial City-State – New Circe – 3045CE**

Getting off the shuttle onto the recently laid concrete landing-pad Julia Brynn struggled to carry her daughter and the three bags which were all they owned in the world between them. Along with the other people who had been on the small craft they were directed by uniformed Colonial Marines towards a large prefabricated building that had a sign over the double-doors leading inside saying "Reception and Processing" and they were jostled by a few other faster-moving people as they went nearly causing Julia to stumble and fall before a female Marine stepped in and offered a helping hand, carrying two of her bags into the building and depositing them by the chairs set up for the arrivals to wait on until they were called to one of the desks lined up in rows for processing and an assignment of somewhere to live.

'Julia Brynn' someone eventually called out loudly, after a fifteen minute wait, and getting up off the chair she gathered her bags and headed to the man on the reception desk who had called for her.

'I'm Julia Brynn' she told the man who was wearing civilian clothes but with a badge pinned to his chest that said he was working for the Colonial Government. 'This is my daughter Kacey' she added, dropping her bags again and sitting down on the seat provided in front of his desk.

The man was reading the paperwork in front of him. 'It's just you and the girl?' he checked.

'Yes' Julia confirmed.

'Given that there are two of you and the child is an infant you will be assigned Class B accommodation' he said.

'Is that good?' Julia asked.

'It's better than Class C' the man replied. 'It's only a timber and canvas hut really but it's all yours' he told her. 'It says here that you worked in a government office back in the Colonies' he noted.

'I was a file clerk for a while before I got pregnant' Julia replied.

'Can you type?' the man asked.

'Yes' Julia told him.

'Given your lack of other skills and the child it's likely you'll be assigned a government job for a while' he told her. 'If it wasn't for Kacey there you would have likely been placed on a work-crew doing unskilled manual labour instead.'

'We don't get to choose what jobs we do?' Julia queried.

'Executive Order from the President and counter-signed by the Quorum' the man replied. 'Once we have all the basic infrastructure in place needed to function properly as a society people will be free to choose their careers but until then I'm afraid it's a case of do as you're told' he said. 'I used to be a Bank Manager and I'm planning to go back to that when we actually _have_banks' he told her. 'Some people are already setting up a few private businesses, stores, bars, food outlets and the like and if you can prove you have another job to go to you can quit the one we assign you but we all have to work' he said with finality.

'I don't mind working if they pay me but who will look after Kacey?' Julia wanted to know.

'Schools and Day-Care Centres are already in place as are Clinics and Hospitals' the man replied handing her a sheet of paper. 'This is a map showing their locations' he said, 'your new home is also marked' he continued. 'A truck waiting outside will drop you off there after you've both had a medical check-up in the next building' he told her. 'It will likely be a week or so until your employment assignment is issued so you'll have an opportunity to meet your neighbours and look around before then. In the meantime until you are earning a salary you can collect meals from government relief centres, the food is much the same as on the ships I'm afraid.'

'It's not too bad' Julia opined, it had certainly been a lot worse before they reached New Circe and the Thirteenth started sending regular shipments to the fleet. It still tended to be bland but at least it was nourishing, in good quantity and sometimes there were treats like fresh meat, fish or vegetables.

The man produced another piece of paper which he wrote her name on, stamped and signed himself. 'If you show the people running the relief centre this then they'll issue you a special ration for your daughter' he said. 'Extra milk and vitamin supplements for example' he explained, handing it to her. 'You might also want to go see one of the volunteer centres the locals have set up, lots of the Thirteenth have been donating things like children's toys and clothes' he advised. 'You'll probably want to make sure to get a warmer jacket for yourself as well as Kacey there, this is a _warm_day on New Circe.'

Julia folded up the sheets of paper and put them in a pocket. 'It must get cold at night' she replied.

'Your home will be warm enough though, they've all got electric heaters as well as a small stove' the man informed her. 'The locals gave us a fusion reactor to power them and engineers from the fleet wired up a power-grid that feeds the city' he said. 'Okay, now I just need you to fill out some forms for our records and you can move onto your check-up' he said, passing her a pen. 'Oh and here is a pocket Caprican to English Dictionary and Phrasebook' he remembered, taking one from a box of them resting next to his chair and passing it over. 'It's a horrible language but it's all written out phonetically and most people can manage to say the words well enough to be understood' he told her with a smile.

An hour later after being poked and prodded by a doctor Julia Brynn finally arrived at her new home and found that its description as a wood and canvas hut was fairly accurate. It was one of thousands of identical huts laid out in a grid pattern with gravel roads dividing the whole area into blocks. The truck that had dropped her off was a military vehicle marked with the oddly asymmetrical star symbol that the people of New Circe used as their flag, although the driver was a Colonial Marine from Tauron who had explained on the way that the truck ran on diesel fuel which the Thirteenth here supposedly made from genetically-engineered algae grown in huge tanks of seawater.

Inside it was about as nice as she might have expected. The abundant forests of New Circe had provided plenty of timber to enable the mass-production of plain, utilitarian, wooden furniture as well as the promised electric heater and stove so at least she had a table and a couple of chairs plus a wardrobe she could lock not that she thought it was sturdy enough to deter a determined thief. Fortunately she neither had much worth stealing nor looked like she did so hopefully people would leave her alone.

After introducing herself to the friendly family from Picon that she found lived to one side, and the miserable, surly Libran couple and their obnoxious son on the other, Julia took her map and her daughter for a walk around. She knew from the fleet wireless that this was all only temporary, and that permanent housing made of brick and concrete was slowly starting to be constructed around what would eventually become a real city, but for now it was still so much better than life had been on the overcrowded ships she quickly decided. Reaching an intersection Julia found that there were road-signs written in both Caprican and the language the Thirteenth called English, one indicated a Volunteer Centre but another pointed the way towards the area designated for Temples and after a few seconds Julia decided it would be better to go thank the Lords of Kobol for sending deliverance in the form of the Thirteenth Tribe before trying to see if the latter had anything for her little girl.

A number of temples in various states of construction surrounded a large square teeming with people. Julia immediately spotted the largest and grandest of these to be that of Zeus but she was intrigued by a simple shrine in the middle of the square where an oracle sat on a blanket beside a stone statue perhaps a metre high at most, both raised on a small rough-cut wooden platform the same height. A couple of dozen people were kneeling and praying to the statue in a semi-circle as the oracle placed some chamalla on her palm and then licked it off, clearing grimacing at the bitterness. As one person finished their prayer and stood up another soon replaced them, some donated a few coins to the oracle and others left a small offering of food or some flowers on the platform for the statue.

'What Goddess is that?' Julia asked a man passing-by, indicating the one on the platform.

'Circe' the man replied. 'That's supposed to be the largest statue of her that was carried in the fleet' he told the woman and child. 'The Oracle sitting beside her is Dodona Selloi and says that we should make sure to thank the patron Goddess of our new home and to most of us I guess it only seems right to do so' he explained. 'After I've offered a prayer to Zeus in his Temple I'll make sure to offer Circe my thanks afterwards too' he said.

Julia nodded and smiled. 'I just arrived here so I'll pray to Circe first' she decided, the man smiling back as he resumed heading for the grandest temple, that dedicated to Zeus of course.

The oracle had picked up a scroll and began reading a section aloud which was related to Helios, the Sun-God and father of Circe. As she did so she rocked from side to side as the chamalla took effect, the mildly hallucinogenic effects of the powder starting to work on her mind. Sometimes this would cause what believers considered a prophetic vision but others of a less spiritual outlook regarded it as a woman getting stoned and seeing things that weren't there.

A woman who had been kneeling almost directly in front of the statue finished her prayer and left, Julia taking her place and putting Kacey down beside her. The oracle finished the passage she had been reading and as she rolled up the scroll again she smiled down at the little girl who was staring at her strange clothes. 'Circe please watch over this little one' the oracle said, turning to the statue. 'Guard her well as you have guarded those of all the Tribes who came to your world fleeing those who would persecute them' she requested.

Julia finished her own quick prayer. 'Thank you' she said to the oracle. 'I'm afraid I have no offering to make' she apologised.

'As long as Circe knows that you would if you could that's enough' the oracle replied. 'At least it's not raining today' she said randomly, looking up at the unusually clear skies. 'I think Circe doesn't mind it wet because her mother was Perse making her the granddaughter of Oceanis, God of the oceans and Tethys, Goddess of seas and rivers' the oracle observed, 'but it's still hard on _me_when it pours and I get drenched to the skin out here' she complained to the statue humourously.

Julia laughed, unlike typical priests oracles could often be a little irreverent. It was thought that the Gods gave them dispensation because of both the chamalla they took and the fact that the Lords of Kobol were not entirely humourless themselves either. 'Are they going to build a proper temple to Circe?' she asked the oracle.

'I'm sure they will eventually but the priesthoods of the Senior Gods are far more numerous and wealthy' the oracle replied. 'Until then I will sit by her side and try to speak for her' she said. 'May the Lords of Kobol watch over you and your child' she said, hands raised openly in prayer as Julia got back up.

As Julia bent down to pick up Kacey the oracle looked at them both her eyes now unfocused as the chamalla was now taking its full effect. 'On this world by a different name, this place yet another, your daughter was taken from you to be used in a game of deceit' she said slowly and rhythmically, almost chanting the words somehow. 'This land was not of Circe then, her children not here to shield and protect you' she declared, 'rejoice Julia for the sons and daughters of the Goddess hold back the night, the shining star vanquishes the darkness.'

Julia and all the other worshippers stared at the oracle. 'Was that a vision?' one asked in wonderment.

'Maybe' another replied.

'Too much chamalla, they say the President went strange on that stuff' someone else commented.

Julia hugged Kacey. 'I've never met her before and I didn't tell her that was my name' she said quietly to herself turning and walking away, pledging to return with an offering later even if it meant selling some of the few possessions she had.

* * *

**Scorpia Orbit - Cyrannus System – 3045CE **

Although much of the wreckage of the Colonial Shipyards had been knocked into a quickly decaying orbit after being struck by nuclear warheads during the fall of the Twelve Colonies, the sheer mass of the structure meant that millions of tons of metal scaffolding and the shattered remains of the Battlestars and smaller craft continued to orbit the world below. Periodically a chunk of debris large enough to survive re-entry plummeted to the ground leaving a trail of fire right across the sky before it impacted with the surface, blowing yet another crater in Scorpia although as yet none had made quite such an impression as the salvo of fifty-megaton warheads which had rained over the Colony shortly after the shipyards were destroyed.

A reasonably industrialised world with factories that supplied much of the needs of the Colonial Fleet most of the urban centres of Scorpia had been thoroughly flattened by the Cylon war-machine which then followed up with a number of deliberately dirty bombs that left behind plenty of long-lasting fallout. Of those that weren't killed instantly during the destruction of the cities tens of millions more died over the next few weeks and months from radiation poisoning, others falling to hunger and disease and then finally Centurions landed, tracking down and wiping out many groups of hardy survivors and in other cases taking the more healthy female prisoners for medical experimentation.

As on other colonies a few bands had still held out, especially in the mountains and jungles where they ambushed Cylon patrols and raided military installations for supplies and weapons. Many thousands of military personnel had been on Scorpia during the attack, often away from the cities on training exercises or else on leave seeking thrills climbing mountains, hiking or in many cases enjoying the paragliding the world was known for, and these marines and fleet personnel had formed the nucleus of the resistance. Over time their numbers had dwindled as month after month the Cylons, demonstrating a clear lack of interest in the quantity of their own casualties, continued to throw Centurions into the fray wearing the humans down.

Then suddenly one day the Cylons had all simply disappeared, all the Raider and Heavy Raiders on the planet taking off and heading skywards. At first the few remaining groups of survivors had suspected it was a trick but then weeks passed without any sign of the machines and the humans became increasingly bold, leaving the safety of the mountains to scavenge other places for supplies.

Anti-radiation drugs were at a premium but fortunately being the main base for the fleet there were plenty of supply depots on Scorpia and many had been both outside the cities and not valuable enough targets to be worth blasting on their own account. Enough were found to save lives that would have otherwise been lost although for reasons of necessity they couldn't be wasted on those beyond saying and many who found their hair falling out took their leave of their comrades plus a pistol and walked away to end it all.

Eventually groups found each other and tried to work out what to do next. If they could find a few working ships then perhaps they could get to Aerilon? The poor agricultural colony with its minimal industry and a fairly low urban population would surely have been bathed less intensely in nuclear fire than Scorpia, Caprica, Picon or Tauron for example, why would the cylons waste atomic weapons on farms and villages?

Although all the airbases and spaceports were gone to the survivor's joy they located an old freighter that had belonged to the Colonial Fleet in a scrapyard where it had been waiting to be broken up. With hundreds working together they searched for parts needed to fix it, working right around the clock for weeks on end until eventually near exhaustion the freighter was considered space-worthy again and Tylium was gathered for the voyage to Aerilon.

Thus it was when Raptor-3 of the Colonial Fleet piloted by Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson landed on Scorpia seeking survivors the first thing that was said to her by an extremely irate engineer when she climbed out of her ship having found some was "Where the frak have you been and why the frak couldn't you have gotten here before I nearly ruptured myself manhandling a new FTL drive into that wreck over there?".

After the Raptors had reported the Cyrannus System free of Cylon ships Admiral Adama had jumped _Galactica_into orbit around Caprica and had begun a systematic search operation looking for any survivors that could be located. Unfortunately it seemed that the Cylons had been equally systematic and only a few hundred could be located, many of them women who had been captured for the failed Cylon "Baby Farm" project and had been either fortunate or unfortunate enough to survive depending on your point of view. Although it had proven a failure the Cylons had persisted in their experiments right up until Caprica Six and Boomer Eight managed to change policy and the Cylons had vacated the Twelve Colonies simply leaving any human left alive to their own devices.

Samuel Anders and his team had insisted on staying on Caprica to search for more people who might still be in hiding and with the help of a few squads of Colonial Marines and four Wolverine VSTOL aircraft he stayed there while _Galactica_jumped across the system to Tauron which had been the second most populous Colony.

As Raptors continued to survey more and more of the Colonies it became apparent that the Cylons had been very successful in their efforts. What had been a population of twenty billion spread across the woirlds of Cyrannus had been reduced to a few thousand, although even that number was more than Adama had hoped and it would be a crowded trip back to New Circe. As groups were located, eventually persuaded it wasn't just all a twisted cylon trick, treated for their radiation sickness and other complaints and taken aboard the liner _Chrion_the problems of dealing with increasing numbers of bewildered, traumatised civilians started to take up more and more of everyone's time.

Not knowing when or if the Cylons might show up, and certainly not convinced they had seen the error of their ways and wouldn't immediately attack, Adama was reluctantly forced to prioritise certain things above devoting all his assets towards rescue operations. They needed to locate FTL drives and ideally the means to produce them, they needed to salvage irreplaceable spare parts for other systems that were in short supply, he wanted to get hold of all the munitions he could and above all he desperately wanted to find some nuclear warheads.

Cylon intelligence thanks to their successful infiltration of the Colonial Government and Fleet had been very good. As the Raptor detailed for the search checked out site after site which had been known to contain part of the Colonies nuclear deterrent they found either a radioactive crater or the clear indications of a ground assault and an empty bunker. After coming up blank eighteen times the crew were starting to get weary of the mission but Adama refused to let them finish until every site which had been either in his own records or those of Admiral Cain had been investigated.

As the cargo ships and freighters of the fleet began to fill with salvage, the liner with survivors and the battlestars munitions holds with whatever could be found in intact military installations across the system the crews became restless. Many wanted to travel to their own homes and try to find their families hoping they somehow might still be hiding there, others wanted to retrieve items of sentimental value and more than a few were just plain homesick to the degree that even the possibility of incurring some mild radiation sickness might be worth it to stand on the surface of their homeworld again. Adama and Tigh found it increasingly hard to maintain the tight military discipline they required in the situation and eventually the Admiral relented slightly and allowed small groups to land as long as they helped out with the mission tasks. Tigh's suggestion of throwing one out of the airlock as an encouragement to the others to shut up and just do as they were damn well told was noted and kept as Plan B.

Nils Sundquist and his team of historians and other academics found greater success than the other groups in locating and retrieving their own objectives. The Cylons had been little interested in blowing museums and temples to rubble, or in taking possession of the ancient scrolls and artefacts within, and after clearing out the Delphi Museum of the Colonies on Caprica first Sundquist went on to gather everything he could from around that world and then others, aided by a number of Colonial guides and a couple of Priests who were willing to accept sacred artefacts being handled by those not of the faith if it meant they would be saved for posterity and perhaps _from_the Cylons.

Finally _Galactica_ received the transmission Adama had been hoping for, the Raptor crew looking for warheads had found an intact and undiscovered facility which was hidden in a valley on Aquaria. It was sealed up tight and lacking the access codes would have to be broken into so the Admiral immediately dispatched a team to do so giving the simple order "Go find me some nukes Chief" as Tyrol and his engineers boarded one of the Wolverine dropships after _Galactica_jumped to the planet.

Standing outside the complex Chief Tyrol found himself looking at a four metre tall steel door that he estimated was likely at least thirty centimetres thick. 'This is going to take a while' he observed with a frown as he tried to work out how long it would take to put through that much metal with a plasma torch. The Triumph Class dropship had landed further down the valley and a tracked APC had carried them the rest of the way. Aquaria was a cold world which naturally seemed to bother the Thirteenth less than it did most of the Colonials, to the latter it was frigid whereas to the former it was merely a little chillier than they were used to.

'You know Chief' Cally interrupted his chain of thought, 'my boyfriend's got something back in the boat that'll get through that door a bit quicker' she told him.

Tyrol turned to Cally then back to the door. 'I'm willing to give laser cannon a chance to shine' he said after a moment's consideration.

One of the two Mercury III battlemechs aboard the dropship was being unloaded when a Cylon Raider on a regularly scheduled recon mission jumped into Cyrannus and to its utter confusion found_Galactica_there several weeks ahead of schedule. It jumped back out as fast as it could and notified the Basestar it was flying out of that they needed assemble the fleet immediately or else the Colonials might get away.

Because the Cylon fleet had still been spread out either looking for _Galactica_ many hundreds of light years away from where it was, or else they were searching for the _Pegasus_and the rest of the Colonials even further away, only a handful of capital ships could be collected and sent to Cyrannus in any kind of quick response. The Cylons had hoped for an overwhelming display of force, at least five or six basestars at minimum, to try and intimidate Adama into surrender, but as it was the three in range could still deploy over a thousand Raiders and Heavy Raiders between them. This should be more than enough to both overwhelm the old battlestars complement of vipers and be able to take the heavy losses her point-defence would likely inflict the Cylon's reasoned, after all the old battlestar wasn't exactly in pristine condition.

_Galactica_was still in orbit around Aquaria, Adama and Tigh on the bridge wondering how many nuclear devices they might have found, when Gaeta announced that a ship had suddenly appeared on the sensors. 'Contact positively confirmed as Cylon Basestar' he reported as the CIC became a hive of activity. 'Correction we now have three DRADIS Contacts that are identified as Cylon basestars.'

'All hands to Action Stations' Adama ordered. 'Signal the civilian ships and the Raptors to jump out to the pre-arranged co-ordinates immediately' he added calmly.

'Sir we have personnel down on Aquaria and four other worlds' Tigh pointed out.

'Which is why _we're_ not going' Adama replied. 'Launch all vipers, get the main and point-defence batteries aimed and ready but do _not_fire until I give the order' he continued. 'Get Commander Thorpe on the wireless ready to make a broadcast to the Cylons, I think he's in his cabin... and tell Wing Commander Defoe that we might need her birds in the air any second.'

'Four of the Kirghiz are packing a pair of nukes apiece Bill' Tigh reminded him. 'From what I can tell their rules of engagement are pretty free if the Cylons start shooting at them' he said. 'Let's hope the Toasters are feeling trigger-happy' he said with a vicious smile.

'Sir we're receiving a wireless signal from the closest basestar' Dualla the Communications Officer reported. 'Voice transmission... sounds like a Number One' she said, listening to it.

'Could be trying to send us another frakking virus' Tigh noted.

'We're not networked and we don't think they can hack the new Navigation Computer' Adama replied. 'Let's hear it on the speaker' he told Dualla.

'_Attention Galactica this is the Cylon Fleet_' the basestar signalled. '_Can I speak to whoever is in charge?_' a male voice requested.

Adama picked up a microphone. 'This is Galactica Actual' he replied.

'_Ah the great Adama himself_' the voice responded. '_I'm honoured_' it continued sardonically. '_We don't mean you any harm_' it claimed, '_we just want to live in peace with humanity from now on, but we intend to do so on our terms_' it said.

'And what are these terms?' Adama queried.

'_You being demilitarised and under our guidance of course_' the Cylon replied.

Raising one eyebrow Adama looked to Tigh who snorted in derision at the machine's words. 'Not likely to happen' the Admiral signalled back. 'At least not without a fight' he stated flatly.

'_You are totally outmatched_' the Cylon told him. '_We're launching Raiders as I speak, more than you could handle even if they weren't backed up with three basestars_' it pointed out. _'Surrender and I promise no harm will befall you or your crew_' it said.

'Attack us and I promise _considerable_harm will befall you and yours' Adama vowed in response.

Laughter could be heard over the speaker. '_Now Admiral, don't be foolish_' it advised. '_You stand about as much chance of winning this battle as you do of finding Earth and seeking refuge amongst the mythical Thirteenth Tribe_' it declared.

'_Attention Cylon vessel, this is Commander Marcus Thorpe of the Star League Defence Forces_' another voice interjected over the same frequency. '_Sorry to interrupt Admiral_' it apologised.

'_Who is this I'm now talking too?_' the cylon queried.

'_I am a military officer of the Star League, the government established to rule over the colonies of the planet Terra, or as you call it Earth_' Thorpe replied from his quarters. '_Admiral Adama and the survivors of the Twelve Colonies have already found the people they were looking for and we have offered them sanctuary_' he said. '_Do not fire upon this vessel or you will find yourself in military conflict with a technologically far superior foe_.'

'_You don't really expect me to believe this garbage do you Admiral?_' the cylon asked. '_The bad Caprican was a nice touch though I'll give you that_.'

'_I'd like to hear you speak English_' Thorpe responded irately. He had put a great deal of effort into improving his Caprican over the last few months. '_I'm being perfectly serious, I am from what you call the Thirteenth Tribe and we do have powerful weaponry of a type you've not encountered before_' he stated, getting back to the task in hand. '_Don't provoke the wrath of the Star League, we're a lot better at war than you are, we've had a lot more practice at it to get it right_' he warned.

'Cylon Raiders are massing' Gaeta reported. 'Some seem to be heading for the surface, they must have detected our people down there' he told Adama.

Dualla answered a call on the intercom. 'Sir Colonel McEvedy has been listening in via a translator' she informed the Admiral. 'All SLDF forces are now under your full control Sir, he has informed Wing Commander Defoe who says that her aerospace fighters are manned and ready for launch.'

Gaeta watched the DRADIS screen. 'Raiders are closing slowly, I think they're trying to scare us Sir' he said. The basestars had jumped in hundreds of kilometres away probably to avoid triggering a battle immediately.

'I'm quaking in my boots' Adama responded flatly, causing a chuckle from Tigh. 'Scramble the Wolverine birds' he ordered. 'Let's see how the Cylons react.'

As the twenty-four hundred-ton fighters launched from the two flight-pods they were immediately detected by the Cylons who had no idea what they were.

'Raiders are moving into an attack pattern and are accelerating' Gaeta announced, 'we're being painted by targeting DRADIS from the basestar. I think we're about to start getting missiles thrown at us Admiral' he offered his opinion based on what he could see on his screen.

'We let those Raiders get much closer and we lose our ace-in-the-hole' Tigh reminded Adama.

'Missile launch from the closest basestar' Gaeta exclaimed.

'Weapons free, engage all enemy forces' Adama responded immediately.

The One commanding the basestar had still thought it was all a bluff and had decided to call it with a single missile with a conventional warhead, not enough to actually damage _Galactica_but it would demonstrate that he knew all the talk of the Thirteenth Tribe was just nonsense. Those strange craft the battlestar had launched were obviously a ruse he reasoned.

When the first Raiders started exploding after being struck by an unknown weapon fired at both a relativistic velocity and a horrifyingly long range it all became _much_ more convincing.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The "revelations" regarding the origins of humanity in the last Season of nBSG really didn't make much sense culturally or genetically (and the Earth didn't look like it did in the show 150,000 years ago incidentally, it was in a severe Ice Age) so I'm fixing it. However I'm not going to simply ignore the last Season, I'm just going to explain it in a way that makes more sense and I'm even going to be using other Battlestar canon to do it. I can't see the Wolverines having a lot of non-military cultural traits so when it came to other things they've adopted an awful lot from the Scandinavian culture of the Richmond prisoners. You'll see Swedish, Norwegian, Finnish and Danish names plus a few political and social concepts. The universal conscription of New Circe is based on how Sweden operated for much of the Cold War, they were centre-left social democrats with a liberal mindset who nonetheless had the ability to quite quickly put 800,000 troops in the field if invaded (ten percent of the entire population and they only drafted the men, New Circe does much better proportionally as they don't let the female citizens off the hook)._

_Kacey Brynn was the little girl taken from her mother Julia by the cylons to try and trick Kara Thrace into thinking she had a daughter. Dodona Selloi was a Colonial Oracle who Three visited on New Caprica, here she has set up on New Circe instead of course. Greek cities had patron Gods, they placed Zeus first but Athens for instance put more effort into worshipping Athena their own patron deity than other places would. Given that Circe was one of the Greek Pantheon (if not a major one) it's likely that the Colonials would regard her as the patron of a world named for her and would therefore give her considerably more attention than a minor goddess would normally warrant._

_The Cylons knew they had far better jump-drives so were in no hurry to assemble a large fleet before they estimated Galactica could reach the Cyrannus System where the Twelve Colonies were situated. They still do have better drives it's just that the Navigation Computer from New Circe closed up the gap a fair deal. I reasoned that since Scorpia was where the Colonial Shipyards were it was industrialised and had a fair number of military installations upon it. The Cylons blasted it heavily as a result, on Caprica we saw relatively intact cities such as Delphi (presumably the Cylons used neutron bombs to kill the people there and other places but keep the buildings intact for their own later use) but Scorpia wasn't so lucky. Radioactive fallout and months of Cylon occupation wiped out the vast majority of those that survived the initial holocaust but we know there were still survivors on Caprica so it's reasonable there were on the other Colonies too._


	10. Chapter 9

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Dodging a laser beam is not necessarily outright impossible but if you were a Toaster you would want to try a few other tactics first because the laws of probability, as well as the Lords of Kobol, are definitely on our side there."_

**Kara Thrace, Battlestar Galactica CAG – 3046CE **

* * *

******Aquaria Orbit - Cyrannus System – 3045CE**

Directed Energy Weapons such as Lasers or Particle Projection Cannon are distinctly unimpressive to see used in a vacuum. Without an atmosphere full of particles to light up even the usually quite spectacular whitish-blue lightning effect of a PPC is invisible so the typical exciting sight of tracer fire and missile trails that were a normal feature of fights between Raiders and Vipers were utterly absent when the fighting began in earnest above Aquaria.

There is in fact only one place you can be to see a Laser or PPC beam in space and that is directly in front of it. Thus it was that the AI's controlling the first Cylon Raiders to be struck _did_get to see what hit them, albeit extremely briefly because a microsecond after everything went very bright it all went very dark. The visuals however were really a moot point because from their point of view they were then resurrected an instant later universally thinking "What the frak was that?" and hoping that the Hybrid controlling the Resurrection Ship might be able to explain.

Sitting in the cockpit of one of the two dozen Kirghiz aerospace fighter _Galactica_had launched, Wing Commander Sarah-Louise "Star-League" Defoe fired her second LRPPC, then when another Raider exploded she fired her two Large Pulse Lasers in relative quick succession taking out two more enemy fighters. The Raiders were still so far away they weren't even visible as tiny dots yet but they were nevertheless well inside weapons range and with the fighter's sensors and computers doing most of the actual work of tracking and aiming all Defoe had to do was fire and wink another Cylon out of existence before selecting her next victim.

Piloting a Kirghiz was very different from sitting at the stick of a Viper. For one thing the SLDF pilots were actually interfaced directly with the machine via a neurohelmet that both translated their brainwaves into something the fighter could understand and also fed information far more directly back. You didn't so much merely sit in an aerospace fighter so much as you became part of it, the technology being much like that used by mechwarriors on the ground to control their machines. That revelation in itself had caused a few disparaging comments from the more technophobic elements in the Colonial ranks, the news that a battlemech basically read your thoughts and actually used the mechwarriors own sense of balance to stay upright when moving at speed blurred the man/machine dividing line a little too much for comfort.

Facing three Basestars _Galactica_ had now orientated itself so that it could bring its port and starboard gun-batteries against the Raiders which would soon be coming from the two more distant of them, leaving only a limited number of forward guns to support the fighters engaging the Raiders launched by the closest Cylon Capital Ship. Although an older design _Galactica_ still carried a formidable arsenal of weapons, twenty-four heavy gun turrets mounting two large cannon apiece, that could be either used to pound a basestar to scrap with conventional rounds or could fire flak for anti-aircraft suppression, plus a vast array of hundreds of smaller fully-automatic guns for point defence. Because the basestars had jumped in so far away their Raiders had yet to enter effective range of the battlestar's guns and so _Galactica_was currently stood idle, waiting to unleash a torrent of munitions at the horde of approaching foes her DRADIS was tracking, until then it would be up to the aerospace fighters of the SLDF to thin out the enemy ranks with weapons that couldn't be avoided.

'This is almost too easy' Wing-Commander Defoe thought to herself with an inward smile of satisfaction as her pilots and fighters continued to lay waste to the incoming Cylons. It was in fact going even better than had been predicted so far, with the worst case scenario having been that the Raiders would all immediately got to full thrust and charge down the guns, cutting down the range to where they could fire back as fast as possible, but instead they had initially continued at the same steady velocity towards _Galactica_seemingly mindless of losses. Then even better as the numbers of destroyed Raiders passed a hundred and fifty and kept on climbing fast they had all begun making a series of sharp evasive manoeuvres as they would if under regular KEW fire, a tactic that worked much better against projectiles going less than three kilometres a second than it did with a laser travelling three-hundred thousand kilometres in the same time span.

The Wolverine LRPPC's were massive overkill for the job they were currently doing. Being intended to be fired at targets which often carried considerably more weight of armour than the Raiders actually massed _in total_the beams were quite simply instant death. On striking the Cylon fighters the Particle Beam Cannon would almost instantaneously convert a fair percentage of the craft to vapour and then what was left tended to promptly explode as both the stores of 30mm KEW ammunition and the Tylium fuel aboard voiced their stern objection to that kind of treatment, expressing their feelings on the matter as shattering secondary detonations.

Given the close-packed formations some of the LRPPC and Large Pulse Laser fire was occasionally achieving multiple kills per shot as either lucky beams went right through one target to spear another or else in many cases pieces of one exploding Raider took out others. Eventually the Cylon Fighter AI's collectively realised that they weren't going to manage to avoid what they now knew were beams of energy, since the things were occasionally visible amongst the vapour and debris, and given the choice between retreat and headlong attack they launched into the latter finally doing what the SLDF pilots had feared they would have done several squadrons worth of destroyed fighters earlier.

Despite their Raiders being hit hard the three Basestars and their nonplussed crews and Hybrids had not acted decisively in the meantime, they were simply too shocked and confused being too used to having a plan which allowed for almost every eventuality and then sticking to it. In fact the trio of Cylon Capital Ships had made no offensive action themselves ever since the closest to _Galactica_ had launched a single missile that had been subsequently shot down by point-defence guns before it got anywhere near its target. Their problem wasn't just the utterly expected new weaponry being directed against them, it was also partially that they just weren't supposed to be here to destroy the Colonial warship anyway, with their orders being to capture it with minimal human loss of life in the process. In the end the Number One's, often called Cavills by the Colonials, had snapped out of their own particularly deep sense of shock and mystification and ordered a full barrage of long-range anti-ship missiles to be launched at _Galactica_because this was clearly now a real fight in earnest.

On the CIC Gaeta reported the inbound missiles and Adama ordered the batteries to open fire on both them and the approaching Raider squadrons from the second and third Basestars that were finally coming into range. The two dozen main turrets began to fire salvoes of flak rounds and then shortly afterwards the hundreds of dual-mounted point-defence emplacements opened up with continual streams of shells fired at what the SLDF considered a staggering sustained rate-of-fire for a fifty-millimetre autocannon. With full ammunition stocks _Galactica_could afford to be profligate with her munitions and her guns kept firing continually, shooting down the incoming anti-ship missiles and holding back the hundreds upon hundreds of Raiders approaching from either side.

With missiles on the way, _Galactica_spewing death and the closing Raiders now eventually large enough to see with the naked eye, especially when they exploded into tiny short-lived stars, Kara Thrace now felt that the game was really on. Until now all she and the thirty-nine other pilots sat waiting in their stationary vipers formed up behind the Kirghiz's had known of the distant mayhem was by listening into the comms-chatter, with Gaeta keeping an increasingly excitable running tally of Cylon losses which were already quite simply ridiculous if his numbers were accurate. 'This is Starbuck to all vipers' she transmitted. 'We'll be in range for our own lasers soon and we should be able to get in at least two volleys into them before they can shoot back so make them count' she ordered. 'Don't get in front of Galactica's guns and don't get in front of the Wolvies either' she told them seriously. 'When we're mixed up fly loose' she advised, 'don't fly predictable so they can use their targeting computers and remember that when your laser is charging you've still got your guns' she said. 'I want kills people' she told them. 'I want so many dead frakking Toasters that they'll still be resurrecting them this time next year.'

'_We've got large numbers of Raiders and most of the Heavy Raiders heading towards the planet Boss_' Hotdog noted. '_Want a few of us to go stop them?_' he asked.

'Negative' Starbuck replied. 'We kill or drive off off the main pack first and make sure _Galactica_is secure then we can mop up what's left afterwards' she said. 'Okay, my DRADIS says we're nearly in range, choose your targets and start zapping them' she ordered lining up her own first shot, the red LED indicator telling her the laser slung under her Viper Mark VII was ready to fire.

'_Wish I had the fancy targeting gear those Wolvies do_' another pilot commented. '_Could have already racked up some kills_' he said.

'The Mark I Eyeball has always worked good enough for me Redwing' Starbuck told him.

'_Yeah but ignoring their sensors even their actual eyeballs are Mark II's_' Kat interjected. The Wolverine's all had eyesight which was far better than what the Colonial's deemed twenty-twenty vision so it was true as well as funny.

'I'll have them gouge yours out and replace them then' Starbuck replied in as serious a tone as she could muster. 'Here we go, good hunting people' she said.

'_Eat hot laser death robot scum_' Hotdog yelled gleefully as he squeezed the new additional firing button on his joystick.

Only just over half the vipers scored a hit on their first shot but that still meant seventeen dead Raiders, five more crippled and two badly damaged as the Medium Lasers sliced through the Cylon hulls they struck. Causing barely half the damage of one of the Large Pulse Lasers mounted on the Kirghiz could achieve, less than a third of what an LRPPC could do at an inordinately greater distance, the old Medium Lasers which the SLDF had dug out of storage for mounting on the Colonial fighters nonetheless gave them the ability to score kills at better than ten times the normal combat range they were used to. Even that limitation was only due in the main to the viper pilot's inability to actually hit something any further out and the accuracy climbed fast as the distance closed down. When the lasers indicated they were charged again, with the Raiders considerably closer now, the second volley from the vipers killed thirty-three raiders outright and disabled five more.

Not one of the forty vipers missed the third shot they managed to get off before the Raiders could fire back and it was at this time that the two dozen Kirghiz fighters switched from firing their LRPPC's and opened up with their autocannon en-masse.

Aggressor squadron training and simulations had revealed what appeared to be the most devastating close-in armament the SLDF could carry on their aerospace fighters for use against raiders as yet, these being two of their smallest LB-X autocannon on each wing.

Although they lacked the rate of fire of either the Viper KEW's, or the Wolverines own Ultra Autocannon, they had a much higher muzzle-velocity than the former and unlike the latter they were capable of firing cluster rounds. Eschewing actually aiming for the most part the Kirghiz pilots simply held down the triggers and opened up with what amounted between them to ninety-six fully-automatic, 30mm shotguns right into the path of hundreds of Raiders. To the Cylon fighter-aircraft the effect was somewhat akin to running headlong into a cloud made of high-velocity steel shards and they just weren't armoured for that sort of thing.

'Lords of Kobol' Starbuck exclaimed as what must have been the equivalent of two or maybe even three squadrons of Raiders were instantly shredded within the space of what seemed like just a few seconds, the ones behind them forced to take high-gee evasive action to get out of the path of the storm of cluster-rounds. She soon got over her shock and realised the chaos might give them the opportunity to get a fourth, maybe even a fifth free shot into the Toasters whilst they wildly manoeuvred. 'Keep zapping the frakkers!' she practically screamed over the wireless as the vipers struck down more Raiders with their lasers.

Wing-Commander Defoe couldn't quite believe what both her computers and her own mind was telling her, they _couldn't_ have already killed _that_many enemy aircraft already surely? In any case it was about to become a real dog-fight not an exercise in long-range marksmanship from a stationary Kirghiz and they didn't want to be a sitting duck when those Cylon fighters opened up with their guns. 'Let's get into it' she ordered her pilots. 'Ride you Wolverines' she cried out and put her engine to full power, everything the Kirghiz had, the fusion powerplant putting out enough thrust to slam her back in her seat at a brutal four gees of acceleration. She soon cut that back to a more tolerable two-point-five after cutting the overthrust but by then the aerospace fighter was already moving fast.

Still firing their autocannon and pulse-lasers the two-dozen SLDF aerospace fighters accelerated straight towards the enemy. Soon they and the Vipers were involved in what amounted to a vicious point-blank dogfight with several squadrons of Cylons who had managed to make it this far, with lines of Tracer fire from Raider and Viper KEW's arcing off in all directions as everyone got tangled up. Lasers burned through metal and 30mm cannon fire blasted airframes to pieces as a confused and unpredictable mess of a fighter battle ensued.

Two Raiders managed to get on the tail of a less manoeuvrable Kirghiz, they opened up with their guns and watched the rounds impact on thick heavy armour to little initial effect as the human at the controls tried to break away from them and failed despite his every effort. One of the Cylon fighters shifted position to target the engines of the aerospace fighter, closing in for an easy shot but then to its short-lived horror it discovered the strange craft had a nasty sting in the tail when a small rear turret on the Kirghiz mounting a Medium Pulse Laser got a lock and promptly shot the Raider right in what was sometimes referred to as its "Face", killing the AI directly behind that location instantly. A few seconds later the Wolverine pilots calls for assistance were answered when a Viper flashed past the nose of his fighter and fired a burst from its three KEW's into the second Raider on the Kirghiz's tail, blowing it apart. The viper then tilted its nose up and fired its laser into another Cylon for another kill within a couple of seconds before banking away sharply to avoid a line of tracers.

Kill ratios between the Colonial Fleet and the Cylons had always favoured the former quite heavily, which was why Basestars carried so many times more fighters than even a Mercury Class like _Pegasus_, but this action was already by at least two orders of magnitude the worst hammering the Cylons had ever taken to a force they outnumbered so heavily. Although Vipers were finally starting to go down the addition of a single laser to the Mark VII meant that if the frakker was charged and ready when the Raider ended up in your gunsights you could simply kill the Toaster bastard regardless of what fancy moves it tried to pull and the Colonial pilots were loving it so far.

With hundreds more Raiders being lost to Galactica's own guns as the other two waves tried to charge down the battlestar it was becoming apparent that the Cylons were going to run out of fighters before too long if this kept up. Maybe if they had jumped in only a handful of kilometres away they could have simply overwhelmed the humans but by arriving hundreds of kilometres away they had given the Colonials and their inexplicable new weapons the opportunity to grind the Raiders down to a manageable number by attrition long before battle could be joined properly.

'We can't win this fight' a Six decided, most of the other cylons agreeing. 'We should jump away' she said.

'We need information' a Cavill responded flatly. 'These new weapons are a major threat even if this talk of the Thirteenth Tribe and this "Star League" or whatever is only a ruse' he stated. 'There are humans on the planet below and we can capture them, load them onto the Heavy Raiders and then jump them away for interrogation later' he said. 'We just need to keep Galactica busy in the meantime.'

'Sacrifice the remaining Raiders to buy us time for the Centurions and our brothers and sisters now landing on Aquaria to accomplish their mission?' an Eight queried.

'Correct' the Cavill replied. 'All the Raiders will be resurrected in time, we're not throwing lives away only material resources which can be replaced' he pointed out.

'I agree then' the Eight concurred. 'We will seize the humans down on Aquaria then jump away' she said. 'We stay and fight.'

'If we bring the basestars in closer to _Galactica_we might be able to draw fire from the Raiders and have more success with our missile strikes too' another Six suggested. 'We should be able to survive her main guns for long enough to aid our new primary objective' she said. Although less heavily armoured than a battlestar a basestar could take a reasonable pounding before coming apart.

'Agreed, move us in' the Cavill responded.

As the fighters duelled and the Cylon Capital ships began to accelerate towards _Galactica_the Heavy Raiders which had headed for Aquaria were landing troops which then began marching towards the nearby valley where the humans were known to be. As they did so those very same humans were unloading the last of the weaponry from the Triumph Class Dropship landed there and were preparing for battle.

If the Cylons had been surprised by what they had already come up against in space then running into the ground combat capabilities of even a tiny fraction of the 331st Royal Battlemech Division was going to be a real eye-opener.

* * *

**Eridanus Valley – Aquaria – 3045CE**

The military base that covered much of the hills and valleys of this part of Aquaria was deliberately isolated, far from any main roads or population centres. Often used for live-fire training exercises that in itself meant that even the more curious had always tended to keep clear of the base, and the gravel road in poor condition that snaked up from the highway, winding around snow-covered hills and through wooded valleys, certainly didn't indicate the existence of a sizeable underground complex hidden there.

The massive steel door set underneath a rock outcrop in a valley deep in the heart of the base was only visible when you got near to it. It dated from just after the First Cylon War when the Colonies were justifiably paranoid of a rematch and were still devoting a very large percentage of their wealth into defence spending in preparation for another conflict that was bound to come one day. Behind the door a large network of tunnels and chambers had been constructed in secret to hold a stockpile of both nuclear ordinance and other military supplies and they had waited there ever since with only an occasional visit from an Inspection Team to disturb them for the last thirty years.

A tracked Armoured Personnel Carrier was parked up next to the door, thoughts of cutting or blasting through it had been replaced by the more pressing problem of the large number of Cylons now supposed to be heading this way and as Cally was passed a standard-issue Colonial Assault-Rifle and a bandolier of ammunition clips she was once again regretting her tendency to follow the Chief on these gods-damned ground missions. 'I'm not very good with one of these' she admitted, indicating the rifle.

'Maybe I should just give her a pistol, every Number Eight skinjob that sees her will crap themselves' the Colonial Marine who was handing out weapons joked. He had been right there on _Galactica_when the diminutive Specialist had gunned down that Toaster-Bitch Boomer.

'Hey if Centurions had ears they'd _really_be in trouble' Tyrol said with a grin.

Cally looked from the Marine to the Chief. 'Don't frak with me' she told them with a glare, putting the ammunition harness over the olive-brown combat jacket an SLDF Infantry corporal had dug out of the APC for her. The damn thing reached almost to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up several times to see her hands but it was helping to keep her warm.

'The Toasters shouldn't get this far, we're forming a line to hold them a klick and a half down the valley' the marine said, 'but if they do you might want to use the APC here for cover, Centurion rounds will bounce right off this sucker' he told them, slapping the side of the armoured vehicle.

'You could have left us more ammo for the machine-gun' Tyrol complained, indicating the only weapon the APC carried, the belt-fed 12.5 millimetre being set in a shielded mounting on the roof. A hatch there allowed it to be fired by someone still half inside the vehicle.

'We need the stuff more than you do' the marine replied. The spare boxes of ammunition had been taken for use by the SLDF Infantry who used the same calibre for their own Heavy Machine-Guns. 'If the Cylons do get past us another couple of hundred rounds isn't going to help you much anyway' he noted.

Tyrol and his team of engineers watched the Colonial Marines and Wolverine Infantry jog back down the valley to where the rest of them were already preparing to fight the Cylons. They had chosen a position where the valley narrowed for a shorter defensive line with the dropship five-hundred metres behind them shielded by a turn in the valley that meant it couldn't be seen by the advancing enemy ground troops. 'Gods watch over them' he said, looking to the sky.

Sergeant Allan Nowart of the Colonial Marine Corps had never seen a defensive position set up quite so quickly. Lacking the time needed to dig decent trenches a trio of eight-wheeled Light Tanks known as _Chevaliers_had rolled out of the dropship and had quickly provided the basis for so-called breastwork fortifications, piles of logs and rocks, by cutting down the most conveniently placed and shaped trees with their laser cannon, the other tracked APC not up at the bunker helping to drag them into position afterwards when necessary.

In terms of infantry manpower they had five squads, four SLDF and the one Colonial Squad under Nowart which had been accompanying the engineers. While a number of them set up their two 12.5mm HMG's the rest were digging in as best they could, piling up rocks and earth in front of the logs. The crews of the Chevaliers had dismounted after knocking down enough trees, and were helping out with the work, once battle was imminent they would get back in their vehicles and would provide support fire from the rear but for now they were most use helping out the footsloggers especially as the spades and pickaxes they unclipped from the sides of their tanks were a lot larger than the entrenching tools the grunts carried.

One sight that was disquieting to Nowart and the other Marines was the squad of four Wolverines in their Nighthawk XXI Powered Armour that was also working alongside them. Although they knew there were people inside those four-hundred kilogram armoured suits they looked far too much like robots for comfort, he did have to admit however that they were great if you ever found you needed to roll some heavy boulders around or help push a couple of tonnes worth of log into the right place.

'We've got Toasters coming' a Marine called out, looking through some binoculars. They had seen dozens of Heavy Raiders come into land a few miles off and with an estimated ten Centurions carried each that meant a lot of robot heading in their direction.

An SLDF Captain started barking orders and the Wolvies stopped working and got ready to fight, the Tank Crews sprinted back to their machines and pulled them back out of sight behind the turn in the valley the APC and the guys in Powered Armour following, they wanted to spring a nasty surprise on the advancing Cylons before they sprang the _really_nasty one.

A minute later finding himself lying prone behind a pile of logs next to an SLDF Corporal doing likewise Nowart made to stick his head up to take a look but the Corporal stopped him. As the Marine Sergeant started to protest, knowing he wouldn't be understood of course, the Wolverine Infantryman who had been wearing his helmet with the visor open now closed it and raised his Mauser 960 rifle slowly over the top of the breastwork panning it back and forth.

'Camera on the rifle, image projected on the visor' Nowart remembered, talking to himself. 'Damn that's useful' he decided as from his vantage point he could see the other Wolvie Grunts doing likewise. 'Those lasers don't have recoil either' he realised a split-second before the SLDF Captain gave the order to fire.

The scouting party of ten Centurions had run for most of the journey from where they had landed, they were surprisingly swift machines, especially over distance where the fact they didn't tire or slow down gave them an edge over humans in endurance, but they had slowed to walking pace once their optics detected the signs of recent activity ahead. Automatic weapons deployed on both arms they moved more cautiously getting within a hundred and fifty metres of the staggered line of minor fortifications before they were all simultaneously shot to pieces.

Testing of the alloy the Centurions were made from in Colonial hands had indicated that although naturally optimised for protection only against projectile weapons it was still resistant enough to infantry-scale lasers that a Mauser 960 was best used at under two-hundred metres. Multiple hits further out could still bring one down readily enough, especially if you hit the right places, but for best results the closer the better. The other advantage to them being close was that with the benefits of computer-assisted aim you could shoot them right in the head even without shouldering the rifle for a steadier firing platform which was exactly what the SLDF Infantry had done.

'What the frak just happened Sarge?' a Colonial Marine asked loudly from the dug-out to the left.

Nowart noted that the SLDF Corporal next to him seemed to be laughing quietly to himself and this time when he went to put his head up to look out the Corporal made no effort to stop him. 'A bunch of Toasters just got zapped' he replied after looking out and then ducking back down.

The scouting party having been in constant radio communication with the other Centurions the main group was well aware of their sudden demise but it had all been a little too sudden to know what happened. Regardless the mission was still to proceed regardless and with a number of biocylons acting as officers, leading from the rear of course as they were far less expendable than Centurions, the Cylons continued their advance.

Sixty Centurions, roughly ten percent of the full force broke into a run themselves and moved towards the human positions, they slowed to a walk once they saw the remains of their comrades and then began a cautious approach guns trained on the obvious human locations.

This time the Wolverine Infantry Captain didn't let them get quite so close ordering his men to open fire at two-hundred metres, as the first Centurions fell the others began to open fire, pouring rounds into the breastworks with good accuracy but with the humans hunkered down all they managed to do was shatter some rocks, blow chunks of wood off tree-trunks and kick up a lot of dirt while the numbers of Cylons hitting the ground climbed fast.

Nowart head an almighty crack and bang and the Corporal next to him flinched and pulled his rifle down snapping his visor open as he did so. 'Shit, frakkers hit your rifle' the Marine Sergeant remarked in condolence as the Wolvie corporal unleashed a steady flow of what Nowart was willing to bet were expletives as he looked at the shattered remains of his Mauser 960. 'Hey man, better that than getting your brains blown out' he told the Corporal with a shrug as the man dropped it to one side.

The firing dried up once again as the second group of Centurions was eventually taken down. 'Next time they'll send everything they've got' Nowart reasoned, 'try to overwhelm us' he said, getting his own far less sophisticated Assault Rifle ready as the Corporal gave his wrecked Mauser a final despondent look and drew his pistol, this being a slug-thrower much like the Colonials used rather than a laser.

This time, with the engagement lasting long enough for proper observations to be made and radioed to the others the Cylons knew what the weapons being used against them were, though they could hardly believe it. Laser Rifles! Not just Directed Energy Weapons you could mount on something the size of a small shuttle, the humans had an actual compact _hand-held_ laser weapon in service and they were powerful enough to bring down a Centurion with a few shots. They simply _had_to seize a few of the things for analysis and if there was one saving grace to the situation it was that there didn't seem to be very many of the things, perhaps twenty or so.

If they had been programmed that way the five-hundred plus Centurions that now came charging at full speed would have yelled a battle-cry, as it was they instead heralded their attack with a the thunderous sound of so many of them on the move echoing up the valley.

The SLDF Infantry raised themselves and shouldered their rifles, they needed to start hitting the enemy as far out as possible needing a steady aim to do so, hoping to thin out the ranks as they approached. The smaller number of Colonial Marines did likewise, rising and aiming their own weapons in readiness and the two machine-gun crews pulled back the cocking handles of their weapons, the heavy 12.5mm slugs expected to punch right through a Centurion and likely the one behind it.

As soon as the onrushing mob of Centurions came into sight the defenders opened fire at extreme range, bullets typically bouncing off the Cylon alloy and laser hits searing though not penetrating the metal at that range. As they neared the Centurions opened up with their own guns en-masse, forced to slow up to walking pace when they did so for the sake of accuracy.

Centurions started to fall, the Heavy Machine Guns scything back and forth wreaking havoc in particular but the rate of fire wasn't enormous and every hundred rounds they had to replace the ammunition belt. The six-shot grenade-launchers fitted to the Mauser rifles did good work up-close, a hit would blow a Centurion nearly in half, but the sheer weight of numbers was too oppressive to hold back. 'Bring up the tanks' the Infantry Captain ordered on the radio built into his helmet, it was time to put some serious firepower into play.

The three Chevalier eight-wheeled tanks swiftly rolled into view, turrets already taking aim as soon as they entered line-of-sight. Thirty-five ton machines they carried an Extended-Range Large Laser as the main gun but this was also backed by a pair of Streak Guided-Missile Launchers which began firing into the midst of the Centurions, the missiles hurtling over the heads of the Infantry positions to explode amongst the enemy, sending both trees and pieces of robots in all directions.

Although the possibility of the humans having heavy-armour support had not been envisioned any more than the lasers had the Cylons did have a counter available, moments later a squadron of Raiders which had been flying a protective Combat Air Patrol over the landed Heavy Raiders were re-directed and began screaming towards the battle, heading up the valley intending to perform a strafing run.

They were almost there when something titanic stepped out behind the Chevaliers and raised its arms.

The biocylon officers commanding the Centurions, a Six, two Fives and a Four had moved up to observe the fighting through binoculars from a safe distance. As they had watched the Raider Squadron hurtle overhead with satisfaction they then collectively proceeded to gape as a ten-metre tall bipedal behemoth appeared and opened up on the Raiders with weapons that weren't so much built into its arms they actually _were_its arms.

The original "Rifleman" battlemech had been first introduced over five hundred years before as a dedicated Anti-Aircraft platform that employed the excellent Garett D2j Targeting System to detect and track inbound enemy fighters. Two centuries later an updated version, the Rifleman II, had been issued to the elite Royal Divisions of the SLDF, being increased in mass to eighty tons and carrying two fifty-millimetre LB X Autocannon and a pair of Large Pulse Lasers as its main armament. With the former loaded with cluster rounds and the latter firing as fast as possible it was quite simply death incarnate for any airborne target as flimsy as a Cylon Raider. The mechwarrior at the controls of the machine now in Eridanus Valley regarded the Cylon fighters as skeet as his targeting system indicated how far ahead he needed to lead his shots before opening fire.

The first Raiders flew directly into the path of the cluster rounds and began to explode, pieces of airframe tumbling to the ground as the Rifleman II blasted at them before they could start their strafing run. As the rest of the squadron pulled up out of the valley the Pulse Lasers started taking them out as the huge battlemech shifted targets, a grinning human at its controls, this was far more fun than it had been in the simulator he decided happily as the surviving Raiders managed to pull out of his line-of-sight and he lowered his aim to fire into the Centurions instead.

'We're frakked' one of the Number Five cylons observed flatly, lowering his binoculars.

'There is no way that the Colonial survivors could have built something like that' the lone Four stated flatly.

'We need to get back to the Heavy Raiders and jump away' the Six advised.

'I don't think that might necessarily be an option' the Five who hadn't spoken before responded as he watched two more machines come running into view, weapons firing as they came storming into the fight.

Sat in the cockpit of his Mercury III Second-Lieutenant Geoff Cale made sure not to accidentally trample his own people as he brought his own battlemech into the fight, the old joke "Oh yuck, I stepped in infantry" was only funny if the grunts were from the _other_side. Moving at a run alongside the other identical thirty-ton machine which the dropship had been carrying Cale's Mercury III carried two Medium Pulse Lasers plus four 12.5mm machine-guns on its arms and the ever popular head mounted flamer for social occasions.

As the pair of light battlemechs ran past the much larger Rifleman II they made certain to stay out of its line of fire as they poured large-calibre bullets and laser fire into the mass of Centurions, initially they simply relied on firepower but then Cale and the other mechwarrior began stomping the Centurions underfoot like insects, realising it would be a great deal of (admittedly quite twisted) fun.

'_Cale, stop screwing around_' the annoyed voice of the Captain at the controls of the Rifleman II interrupted his merriment. '_We'll handle the robo-crunchies, you collect the Nighthawks and go get those grounded Heavy Raiders_' he ordered.

'Yes Sir' Cale responded, he turned back towards where the Chevaliers and the Rifleman II were and saw the squad of four men in Powered Armour on the way, he jogged towards them and using the small jump-jets fitted to their armour they jumped onto the back of the Mercury III when he turned to let them mount. The other clans had invented this tactic first with their own superior types of Powered Armour but the Wolverines having learned of it adopted the technique quickly, welding simple steps and hand-holds to their battlemechs for the Powered Armour guys to hold onto. This had of course also led to a few jokes about mechs needing to be sprayed for ticks and the ever-popular sign painted on the back "If you can read this my Nighthawk Squad fell off".

Taking his Mercury III into a steady run, simply stomping through the remaining Centurions, ignoring any that shot at him although incidentally crushing a couple underfoot as he went, Cale began heading back down the valley. He spotted a few figures in the distance and recognised a few of them from pictures when he upped the magnification of his neuro-helmet display. 'Get ready to dismount guys' he radioed his passengers, 'we've got a few of the other kind of cylons up ahead.'

'Oh shit! It's coming our way' the Six declared in panic as the enormous machine headed towards them. 'Scatter' she said, running away.

As Cale reached where the humanoid Cylons had been he stopped and looked around. '_I saw you, and I've told my friends_' he said in Caprican over the external speakers, his voice heavily amplified and electronically distorted. '_Don't make us hunt you down because we'll flush you out with a flame-thrower_' he warned, firing a warning jet from his flamer as the Nighthawks jumped off, their Mauser 960's ready for action.

The Six stepped out into the open from where she had been hiding, Cale turning his battlemech to face her. She drew a pistol and fired several bullets at one of the Nighthawks which ricocheted off before she put the pistol to the side of her head, four laser-rifles now levelled at her. The one who she had shot was now at yelling at her in a language she couldn't understand though there was clearly both a human in there and he was understandably irate. These suits were another revelation, all this advanced technology couldn't be of Colonial origin the Six knew for certain, the cybernetics and electronics required wouldn't have been particularly easy for even the Cylons to reproduce and they were well beyond the Colonials in those fields.

'_No need for that, my people are not from the Twelve Colonies, we don't torture or execute Cylon prisoners_' Cale told her. '_These soldiers from the 331st Royal Battlemech Division of the Star League will accept your surrender and take you into custody_' he said, then added something in the language the Six didn't understand. The men in the big armoured suits lowering their weapons slightly in response to his words as a obvious gesture that they weren't going to kill her out-of-hand.

'When I die I get reborn and I get to tell the others what I've seen' the Six responded, the other Cylons now emerging from cover with pistols to their own heads also, the soldiers in the Nighthawk suits turning to face each of them, Mauser 960's levelled once again. The cylons wouldn't be taken prisoner, and getting back to the Heavy Raiders didn't seem too likely a prospect, but resurrection was still a means of escape if one that got more painful and disturbing each time it was used.

Cale thought about that one, after this he and the Nighthawks would go onto the Heavy Raiders landed nearby sans pilots. If they could take even a few of them intact then it would be a triumph for the Clan and the Star League, promotion and maybe even a line in the Wolverine Remembrance beckoned. '_Then if you're all intent on suicide you might want to pass on this message when you get resurrected_' Cale announced.

'What message?' the Six asked, looking up at what was obviously the cockpit of the huge machine.

'_Do not meddle in the affairs of the Thirteenth Tribe for you are easily scrapped and a convenient source of high-grade alloy_' Cale advised deadpan, knowing that line would be earning him a few drinks at the bar later as the Cylons looked up at him nonplussed before blowing their own brains out.

One of the Wolverine Infantry in the Nighthawk suits turned to look up at the Mercury III. 'What the hell did you say to them Sir?' he queried not having understood any of the Caprican.

'_I don't think they appreciated my sense of humour_' Cale replied, '_Mount up, spoils of war beckon_' he added, turning his battlemech so they could jump aboard once again.

'But how bad could a joke actually _be_?' one of the other Wolverines asked his friends in confusion once they were back underway, the journey now teeth-rattling as the Mercury III engaged its MASC gear and began to sprint.

* * *

**Aquaria Orbit – Cyrannus System – 3045CE**

Gaeta looked up from his console with a concerned expression on his face. 'Sir we're getting radiological warnings on DRADIS from some of those incoming missiles' he reported.

Tigh growled. 'Bastards must have been trying to run our guns dry with the conventional warheads and now they're starting to throw the dangerous stuff at us' he reasoned. 'How are the guns?' he asked.

'We're running down our ammunition stocks fast' Gaeta responded. 'I'm more worried about the heat build up though' he continued, 'we've been using the water tanks as a heat-sink but they're starting to boil and the point-defence batteries are running red-hot' he said. Although they could be fired continually for a very long time they were getting close to their limit. 'We might have to reduce our rate of fire or we could be looking at rounds cooking off prematurely, or maybe even the barrels melting' he advised.

Adama looked thoughtful. 'Vent the water tanks into space' he said. 'Dumping steam and water-vapour should cause rapid cooling' he said. 'We can re-fill them from a comet later.'

'The guns still won't take much more Bill' Tigh pointed out to him quietly.

'We can't stop firing if there's nukes inbound' Adama replied. The majority of the Raiders had been eliminated, with the Viper and Kirghiz fighters now mainly mopping up, but they were both almost out of KEW and autocannon rounds respectively and for the Vipers at least the rate of fire for their lasers was woefully low. Shooting down the remaining Cylon fighters and trying to assist in knocking out down the missiles coming in from the approaching basestars was a tall order for them if _Galactica_had to shut down her point-defence guns.

'Sir, nine of the Wolverine fighters have veered off and three are heading towards each of the basestars at maximum acceleration' Gaeta announced.

'Colonel McEvedy just authorised nuclear strikes on the basestars Sir' Dualla reported, the Wolverines had their own command channel but she could listen in.

'About frakking time' Tigh grumbled.

'They have their own Rules-Of-Engagement from their government and were told they were operating under a No First Use policy for nuclear weapons' Adama noted. 'The Cylons just gave the Wolvies the excuse to take the gloves off' he said with some satisfaction.

Wing Commander Defoe let the other two Kirghiz's pull slightly ahead of her, the three aerospace fighters forming an inverted V formation with her in the rear as they accelerated towards their basestar target. She had chosen to be one of those carrying nuclear weapons and as they pushed up to two and a half gees worth of thrust she started to run through the launch procedures.

There were still better than two hundred and fifty Raiders in the fight, these being all that remained of the twelve-hundred plus the Cylons had started with, but although several pulled out of the engagement and began pursuing the SLDF fighters they soon discovered that although they lacked manoeuvrability in terms of sustained acceleration the Kirghiz was damn hard to chase down especially when the Wolverines put in a short burst of overthrust cranking the fighters up to four gees long enough to build up a nice lead.

Knowing that one day they would likely face an overwhelming number of Clan warships the Wolverines had developed a nuclear-tipped missile to be carried by their fighters, a salvo of dozens of hundred-kiloton warheads would be a nasty threat to even a mighty McKenna Class Battleship. This attack was rather more restrained with a mere two missiles apiece to be thrown at the Basestars but that should be enough, the Cylon Capital ships had considerably more missile-launchers than a Colonial Battlestar, and they carried far more fighters, but they didn't boast the same formidable point-defences.

'_I think we just got painted by their RADAR... I mean DRADIS or whatever_' one of Defoe's wingmen announced over the radio.

'_Confirmed, I am tracking missiles inbound_' the other added. '_They've got nice missiles Ma'am, we ought to copy them_' she opined. '_ECM unable to break missile lock_' the pilot continued. '_VERY nice missiles_' she said appreciatively.

Defoe noted the missiles closing fast, or rather than they were as much closing fast with the missiles the closing speed between them very high. 'Cut acceleration escort one and two, target the inbounds' she ordered.

The three Kirghiz aerospace fighters cut their engines and kept going on momentum, they had already built up plenty of speed and the pursuing Raiders would take a while to catch up. They targeted and started to fire on the missiles with their pulse lasers, eventually starting to score hits although more missiles took their place and the time available to take them out was getting shorter every second.

On board the Basestar the Hybrid reported a radiological alarm as the strange oversized fighters neared, the only thing was the Raiders had been reporting that continually for every one of the Kirghiz's ever since the fight began and it had reached the point where the warnings were ignored. It seemed that the craft reputedly belonging to the mythical Thirteenth were powered by nuclear rather than tylium engines and that meant their exhaust kept triggering the DRADIS sensors intended to detect nuclear ordinance onboard enemy craft.

'Hit that big bitch with the LRPPC's and your Lasers then fire off the last of your cluster rounds' Defoe ordered, turning the nose of her craft so it was pointing at the now looming Basestar. The trio of fighters fired their Directed Energy Weapons in a ragged volley, the beams slicing through the relatively weak hull of the Cylon warship and then the Wolverines held down the triggers of their LB X autocannons dumping what little was left in their magazines after the extended fight.

When her four cannons ran dry Defoe waited a second then making sure the other two strike missions were ready she gave the order and launched her two missiles, the cloud of shrapnel moving ahead from the cannons would act like a shield ahead of the nukes it was hoped, and maybe even confuse their DRADIS, whilst opening up with the DEW's first might make the Cylons think they were just going to try and shoot up the Basestar. 'Veer off' she said, turning her Kirghiz ninety degrees to port and pushing her thrusters to maximum.

The missiles used a passive optical sensor rather than active radar to recognise their target, they had simply programmed the things earlier with what a Basestar looked like and the missiles having one directly in front of it when launched they went to full thrust and came barrelling in like a bat out of hell.

Already going at a high speed even before they kicked in their own engines, thanks to the momentum they had inherited from their launch-aircraft, the missiles hurtled towards their destination. The Hybrid controlling the basestar had just enough time to realise what was about to happen, start desperately calculating an emergency jump and think nasty thoughts about the almost entirely organic and completely moronic Cylon models in charge when the two missiles contact-detonated a hundred metres apart on the thin neck that separated the two Y-shaped halves of the ship.

The strikes had been timed to be simultaneous, six thermonuclear warheads detonated against three Cylon Basestars within the space of a couple of seconds. Two of the ships were blown clean in half, their top and bottom sections sent tumbling away as they vented atmosphere, wreckage and Cylons into space. The third was not so fortunate since its tylium fuel tanks and several missile bays blew in a titanic ripple of secondary explosions that shattered the ship into nine major sections and myriad pieces of debris.

On the CIC the flashes of the nuclear strikes were greeted with whoops of joy and triumph. 'I am showing three good kills on the Basestars' Gaeta reported, grinning broadly. 'We still have Cylon missiles in flight but we are taking them out.'

'Raiders?' Adama asked.

'We're down to seventy-five and they're getting cut to pieces by point-defence and lasers' Gaeta replied, checking his board. 'Make that seventy-one' he added. 'Sir, the Raiders are starting to jump out.'

'You bet your ass the cowardly son-of-bitches are jumping out' Tigh responded. 'We've kicked the frakking crap out of the gods-damned Toaster bastards' he declared with a satisfied and somewhat vicious smile on his face.

'What's the count on our losses?' Adama asked flatly.

Gaeta's smile vanished and the sounds of celebration ended abruptly. 'I make it fourteen Vipers destroyed and according to a report I got from Starbuck it looks like two Kirghiz as well. One of the Wolvie pilots took a couple of bursts into the cockpit and his, sorry _her_, bird is drifting, and another smacked straight into a Raider going the other way at high speed' he said. 'That pilot managed to punch out and so did three of the Viper pilots.'

Adama nodded and turned to look around the CIC. 'We won the battle but we lost twelve good men and women doing it' he said. 'Cylons come back but human-beings don't, remember that' he told them seriously.

'Sir, all Raiders have jumped out' Gaeta reported.

'Three basestars nuked, and we must be pushing thirteen-hundred Raiders taken out' Tigh whispered to Adama, 'I hate to say it with a few of our people floating out there dead in space too but this is the greatest victory the Colonial Fleet has ever achieved, considering how light our losses really are' he noted.

'Light, Saul?' Adama responded. 'Are the loved ones of those pilots supposed to think so?' he asked rhetorically before eventually smiling. 'Feels good to be back in the Colonies and winning not running though' he admitted.

'So what now Bill?' Tigh asked.

'We gather up all our people, grab everything we can in as short a time as we can and get the hell out of here before the Cylons can get their heads straight and their shit together' Adama replied.

'So we _are_running?' Tigh queried.

Adama looked thoughtful. 'This time it's more like a strategic withdrawal after a tactical victory' he replied eventually. '_Actually_ running away, like we did the last time we were here, feels a lot frakking worse than this' he said with satisfaction.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_Aerospace Fighter weaponry in Battletech not only vastly outranges that used by nBSG Vipers and Raiders it can score hits far further out than we ever saw even the battlestars managed with their main guns. Next time the Cylons will know exactly how not to fight against an enemy with long-range Directed Energy Weapons because they've found out the hard way._

_Viper/Raider combat in the show was basically a knife-fight between aircraft within spitting distance of each other, here the Raiders got hammered all the way in starting so far away they weren't even specks in the distance, they won't do that again!_


	11. Chapter 10

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_The prosecution maintains that it was my client that carried out the crime but all that they offer as evidence are eye-witnesses, video footage and a positive genetic match for my client from blood samples left at the scene. Compelling proof yes, if my client were human, but that could have been any Number Three Cylon who carried out the assault and simply being unlucky enough to be the first Three spotted nearby is not enough to convict beyond reasonable doubt and that's what I'm going to tell the jury when the case is heard tomorrow." _

**Romo Lampkin, Celebrity Lawyer – 3048CE **

* * *

******SLDF Bunker Complex – New Circe – 3045CE**

Biers looked at the other two and smirked before laying down her cards on the table. 'Prince Red High' she declared.

Sharon stared at them for a moment. 'Frak me' she said, throwing her own hand down in disgust.

'Your next three desserts are mine' Biers told Sharon and Gina with an evil laugh.

'Don't count your calories until you've got them Three' Gina told her. 'Full Colours' she stated, putting down her own Triad cards face up.

'You're kidding' Biers said in disbelief, 'do you know what the chances of getting those cards are?' she asked. 'Oh of course you do, we use the same mathematics software' she remembered.

'The Eights got version 2.1 of that' Sharon remarked. 'They fixed the rounding issue on fractions and probabilities.'

'Doesn't help you win at cards though does it?' Biers asked sarcastically.

'No, but I can work out just how unlucky I am three-point-eight percent faster' Sharon replied with a sigh, leaning back in her chair and stretching. 'I'm going to have to throw you out soon, I need to meet Karl and Hera for dinner in the canteen' she said. 'He took her for a walk outside.'

'He didn't bring a camera did he?' Biers asked. 'I'm not looking at any more frakking photographs of your kid doing something that's supposedly cute' she stated with finality.

'Well I think she's adorable' Gina observed with a smile. She did however agree upon casting a quick look around the renegade Eight's quarters they were sat in that there were perhaps a few too many pictures on the walls, as well as an almost intimidating plethora of stuffed animals. The mobile hanging over the crib being made up of tiny model Raptors and Vipers was just funny though, especially when Three had commented it should really have a Heavy Raider or two as well given Hera's mixed parentage.

'You also think its okay to kiss-up to our jailers in return for better living conditions' Biers replied.

'And like _you_didn't fold after five weeks sleeping on concrete' Sharon responded sardonically.

'Hey I might mop the occasional floor in return for a bed and getting out of my cell occasionally but I'm not providing military secrets to the enemy' Biers retorted.

'All I've done is help explain _Colonial_computer systems to the Thirteenth' Gina defended herself. 'My cover was as a Systems Analyst, they know I know that stuff' she said, then looked away. 'You know I can't stand being locked in a room' she added quietly. Major Nordenskiöld, the Army Intelligence Officer that was now in charge of the Cylon Prisoners, had soon realised that simply offering to leave her cell door unlocked and slightly ajar made the Number Six prisoner far more cooperative, and also slightly less neurotic which was another plus.

Biers reached over and took Gina's hand. 'We know Sister' she said softly. 'So Sharon tells me that guy that wants to get into your pants was here again yesterday' she continued. 'Does that mean you've got candy?' she asked.

'He's not trying to get into my pants' Gina replied, 'at least I don't get that vibe from him, he's got that "I love my wife and kids" aura' she said. 'He just asked after me and they've let him visit a couple of times.'

'Four, and you've always got a bag of striped candy afterwards' Sharon interjected. 'Why is that anyway?' she queried.

'I told him I liked the black and the red ones' Gina replied. She had been surprised when Kaarlo Hennessy came to see her, but although he clearly hadn't got a clue what to say at first it was nice to have someone show some concern. Gina knew that going half-way catatonic on the man when she turned herself over to his custody on Cloud 9 was probably the reason why he felt a desire to check on her well being but although that was embarrassing and awkward at least she benefited from some empathy, plus the candy of course.

Sharon got up. 'I've still got ten minutes so would either of you like some tea?' she offered.

The Three rolled her eyes. 'And how much do you have to suck-up to get your own frakking _kettle_?' she wanted to know.

'You don't have one?' Gina responded in surprise.

'Am I the only Cylon in this place that still realises that the humans are the enemy?' Biers asked rhetorically. 'They enslaved us remember' she pointed out. 'And on a more personal level remember what they actually _did_to you two specifically.'

'That was the Colonials, the Thirteenth haven't really done anything to me' Gina replied. 'I'll have some tea' she requested from Sharon.

'All they did to me was beat me up' Sharon interjected, 'but it wasn't malevolent and they were very nice about it afterwards' she continued, filling her kettle from a faucet over her sink.

'It doesn't take much to get you two nice and cooperative does it?' Biers responded, shaking her head in disbelief. 'Any human that doesn't rape you, or only beats the crap out of you _politely_, is automatically your new best friend' she added sarcastically.

'If you could put all that cynicism away for a while you might start to learn a few things about people' Sharon replied evenly. 'No wonder you were just a good muck-raking journalist, you don't really think much of anybody do you?'

'Not really' Biers admitted.

'Why don't you go have a conversation with the Ones if you want some quality "I hate humans, Cylons are superior" time?' Gina asked Biers curtly.

'A conversation with a One brings any notion of inherent Cylon superiority crashing down straight away Sis as you well know' Biers replied. 'For machines that profess to hate humans so much they're so irrational and emotional on the subject you can feel the self-loathing flowing off them' she said. 'And besides which _they're_not screwing a human that brings them a pack of cards when they say they want to play Triad with their robot buddies.'

'This was _your_idea' Sharon pointed out.

'Yeah well I never thought a Six would have such a good Triad Face' Biers replied bitterly. 'It's usually all written on their expression, "I want love" or "I'm angry" or "I'm not happy with this hair colour".'

'And I suppose you thought you could read me easily too?' Sharon asked, making the tea.

'No, you Eights can be stony and impassive when you want to be' Biers replied. 'I was going to _distract_you' she said. 'But then the Six here started doing it instead, asking about your little girl every time it looked like you needed to concentrate.'

Gina looked awkward. 'It always works so well' she admitted.

Sharon looked annoyed. 'I was going to ask both of you to play again next week but you can forget it now' she told them. 'You're just schemers and cheaters' she complained.

'Well why don't you play cards with your friends from the Thirteenth instead?' Biers retorted.

'I did for a little while but they won't let me anymore' Sharon replied, suddenly looking like she had been caught out in something.

The Three and the Six looked at her suspiciously. 'Why is that then?' Gina asked, narrowing her eyes.

'We were playing this game called Blackjack with some Wolvies in the Canteen and I was doing really well, probably _too_well because they all started to get annoyed' Sharon responded, blushing and now trying to avoid eye-contact. 'I'd just won several hands in a row when Major Nordenskiöld walked in, saw me there and then pointed out to everyone else how good I probably was at counting cards.'

'And you bawled _us_out for being cheaters' Biers responded incredulously.

'I wasn't cheating, I was just using my natural talents' Sharon defended herself.

'Which you saw fit not to remind the people you were playing against of' Gina noted disapprovingly.

'It was an honest oversight' Sharon told her unconvincingly. 'Here's your tea' she said, passing it to her.

There was a knock on the door. 'Come in' Sharon called out in English. She had been learning the language of the Thirteenth for some months now, it would be best if Hera was raised bilingual she knew, plus it helped her own relationships with the guards and other personnel.

'And they frakking knock before walking in' Biers muttered. She was accorded no such pleasantries in her own quarters, or rather her cell.

A woman in an SLDF Army uniform with Sergeant's stripes on her arms entered and said something to Sharon. 'You've got another visitor' she told Gina.

'Who?' Gina queried, Kaarlo had told her it might be a couple of weeks before he was back, the "Demand Peace" movement had folded, it wasn't like Baltar might visit, and who else did she actually know?

'It's your lawyer' Sharon explained.

'Since when did I have a lawyer?' Gina asked in confusion, perhaps more importantly why did she need one she wondered?

Despite being in an underground bunker Romo Lampkin was still wearing his sunglasses. That had provoked comment but it had been the fact he had brought a cat with him that had surprised Major Nordenskiöld the most when he arrived up top via a VSTOL that had flown him from the Colonial City-State. Assuming it could just be another weird Colonial cultural thing, like their inexplicable habit of cutting the corners off sheets of paper, the Major had chosen to ignore it which was why Lance the feline was prowling around the room usually used for interviews and interrogations when the Cylon entered.

Lampkin was sitting at the table when they came in. 'Please take a seat Ms. Inviere' he greeted her, rising slightly from his seat. 'Or do you prefer Gina?' he asked. 'Or Number Six perhaps?' he added.

'Gina is just fine' she told him, sitting down. 'You're a Colonial' she noted.

'Born and bred' Lampkin replied, 'I suppose in your society the phrase would be decanted and engineered' he continued with a wry smile.

'I'd watch your jokes about people being produced that way here' Gina responded. 'You're very likely the only one in this facility, cylon or human, that came out of a woman not a container' she pointed out.

'I'll take your advice under advisement' Lampkin replied, 'lawyer humour' he said, smiling a little.

Gina frowned. 'What are you doing here?' she asked. 'I'm told you're my lawyer but I can't see why I need one and I didn't hire you' she said.

'Don't worry about my fee Ms. Inviere, sorry I mean Gina,' Lampkin replied, 'I'm being paid by the government of New Circe to represent you since none of their own public defenders are either qualified in Colonial Law or speak Caprican' he said. 'As to why you need a lawyer, the Quorum of the Twelve Colonies, or rather the Colonial City-State, has issued a request for your extradition' he explained.

'They've done that before' Gina replied, more than once in fact they knew. The New Circe authorities had rebuffed the request because their laws would not allow them to hand over a prisoner who wouldn't be accorded a fair trial, or anything remotely resembling one. Gina suspected that this was being used partially as an excuse by the Wolverines to keep her as an intelligence asset for themselves but they did all seem genuinely appalled by her treatment on the _Pegasus_ and the known Colonial habit of summarily executing cylon prisoners was not regarded as being the act of a civilised society. If they had tried Gina for espionage and sabotage, found her guilty then shot her as a spy and saboteur that would have been fine according to Major Nordenskiöld, it was an occupational hazard for someone in Gina Inviere's profession, but what _had_been done to her went well beyond what Star League law or SLDF regulations would countenance, even in wartime.

'Yes they have' Lampkin confirmed, 'the difference now is that the Quorum have issued a guarantee that you will be tried under the auspices of the Articles of Colonisation just like anyone else would and that changes things' he said.

Gina looked shocked. 'You can't be serious?' she exclaimed.

It caught me by surprise too, treating a cylon like a human in legal terms sets a precedent with implications that go far beyond this case' Lampkin responded. 'It certainly has bearing on the legal status of Sharon Valerii for one thing and will make throwing any future cylon prisoners out of airlocks a legally more dubious action' he continued, 'but I've not known politicians to think too far ahead as a rule so perhaps they just didn't consider the long-term effects.'

'They want me for a show-trial' Gina realised.

'Of course' Lampkin confirmed. 'The other cylons were only involved in infiltration and intelligence gathering, as far as we know, but you were _directly_involved in actions which disabled the Colonial Fleet and facilitated the destruction of the Twelve Colonies' he noted. 'You helped sabotage the computer systems of the fleet so that a cylon virus could neutralise our fighters and warships' he continued. 'The blood of billions is on your hands.'

Gina looked away. 'I know' she said.

'Fortunately for you I for one consider _everyone_entitled to legal representation and I enjoy my work' Lampkin told her. 'Assuming the request for extradition is allowed I've got a few arguments I can present, and a few legal tricks up my sleeve that might sway a few of the jury or make the prosecutions case difficult' he said.

'What do you mean?' Gina asked.

'Ah, well for one thing confessions given under torture are inadmissible as evidence' Lampkin told her, 'there's plenty of precedent to support that plus the interpretations of several of the Articles of Colonisation themselves' he continued. 'Anything you said while being interrogated on _Pegasus_is legally irrelevant.'

'I wasn't "interrogated", I was beaten, tortured, starved and gang-raped' Gina replied coldly.

'And that might conceivably save your life which is ironic I suppose' Lampkin replied.

Gina looked him in the eyes, or rather the shades. 'It wouldn't have been worth it' she told him.

'I'm sure that to many of the Colonial survivors who favour a punitive approach to sentencing it all represented a modicum of justice' Lampkin responded.

'And you still think that _we're_the monsters?' Gina asked him rhetorically, with the hint of a sneer. A trial in front of a jury of her "peers" was a joke in itself.

Romo Lampkin removed his sunglasses. 'Your people killed my two little girls so yes I do' Lampkin replied evenly, 'I just think that monsters have rights too and by according them those rights I'm proving that I'm not one myself' he declared. 'I believe in the law' he said earnestly, 'apart from a cat I don't like, and my natural ability to look cool and calm under pressure, it's all I have left to cling on to' he told her. 'Let me be honest, I _hate_frakking Cylons but I'll still defend you to the very best of my ability because I'm holding onto my principles as the only thing that gets me up out of bed in the morning and stops me putting a pistol barrel in my mouth.'

Gina blinked. 'I'm sorry about your daughters' she told him awkwardly.

'You could be lying and I don't even know for certain if you _can_feel sorry' Lampkin replied, putting his sunglasses back on. 'I just don't care one way or another' he said flatly. 'Now I've got a few questions to ask and unless you want to face a firing squad I suggest you answer them' he advised.

'Okay' Gina responded quietly.

Lampkin looked at her. 'Your cover was as a System's Analyst for Integral Systems Engineering correct?' he asked.

'Yes, I got a job with them a few months before the attack on the Colonies thanks to faked qualifications and getting a perfect score on their employment tests' Gina confirmed.

'So the cylons planned to attack the Colonies some time before they did so and had operatives in place to facilitate this, you being one of them?' Lampkin checked.

'Yes, everyone already knows this now' Gina replied.

'This plan to genocide the human race was plotted quite clinically then?' Lampkin queried. 'Just the sort of thing that would be expected of a race of machines' he observed.

'No, there was quite a lot of argument about what we should do, some argued we should only hit military targets' Gina told him. 'Demilitarise the Twelve Colonies in a defensive pre-emptive strike so they were no longer a threat.'

'What made you assume we were a threat at all?' Lampkin asked. 'The Armistice had held for forty years' he pointed out.

Gina crossed her arms and then smiled. 'I may have some information that could help you make your case' she told him. 'It could also cause major disruption in Colonial society if you use it so I'm interested in finding out if you will and how true to your beliefs you really are' she said.

Lampkin regarded her curiously, this sounded intriguing. 'I've been reading some translated versions of Star League legal books recently' he told her, 'there were a few quotes I liked dealing with legal judgements and made sure to memorise for my own use' he continued. 'One of them was _fiat justitia ruat caelum_, "Let justice be done, let the sky fall" which is a notion I like' he said. 'The rights of the individual supersede the implications to the state of not doing justice towards them.'

'Well this one might bring down the sky' Gina told him. 'The Cylons didn't break the armistice' she said, 'the Colonials did' she told him.

'_What?_' Lampkin exclaimed.

'Roughly six years before we launched our attack the Colonial Fleet sent a military scout over the Armistice Line on a reconnaissance mission' Gina began. 'We captured the pilot and interrogated him, not that he knew much' she said. 'We considered that this could be the precursor for a Colonial attack on our space so it was at this point that we began a major defensive military build-up and started formulating early plans to hit you first before you could hit us' she told the lawyer.

Lampkin looked at her doubtfully. 'It sounds like an interesting tale, and puts a different spin on things, but it would never stand up in court without corroboration' he said. 'And even if it _was_the Colonial Fleet that broke the armistice that's no justification for genocide.'

'I'm not going to try and argue that the nuking of your cities was justified but it might be possible to gain some verification of the story regarding the breach of the armistice' Gina replied.

'How so?' Lampkin asked, intrigued.

'The scout that crossed into our territory was a Stealthstar Recon Craft launched from the Battlestar _Valkyrie_' Gina told him. 'The _Valkyrie_was then under the command of a certain William Adama, with one Saul Tigh as his Executive Officer' she said. 'Put them under oath and ask them.'

Lampkin sat back in his chair. 'Frakking hell' he swore. The cylon bitch was right, he decided, this revelation could have serious implications not only for the trial but for Colonial Society as a whole especially given both the attitude of the survivors towards the Admiral and the way that much of Roslin's power-base often seemed to hinge on the goodwill of the military and their leader.

Lance the cat had stopped prowling and had now sidled up to Gina and was purring and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and stroked it upon which it jumped into her lap and began to enjoy the attention. 'Nice cat. I think it likes me' she told Lampkin.

'There's no accounting for taste in either direction' the lawyer replied. 'Okay you've given me something to work with at least' he said. 'I've only got one more question to ask' he said.

'Which is?' Gina asked.

'I once saw you in a bar on Cloud 9' Lampkin told her. 'So what _is_ your relationship with Gaius Baltar anyway?' he asked. The look of shock on her face when he said it confirmed to him that he had definitely asked the right question.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Saul Tigh nearly tripped over a crate resting on the floor just inside the Admiral's quarters as he knocked and entered. There were three more identical crates nearby plus several other boxes. 'For frak's sake Bill, they've got this crap stacked up in here too?' he asked rhetorically.

'Careful Saul, that's vintage Ambrosia for the President, aged two hundred years' Adama told him as he took two glasses from a cupboard. 'Too good for the likes of us' he continued, pouring them both a small quantity from another bottle he also produced.

'That stuff you've got must be at least a hundred years old itself' Saul noted, taking the glass he was offered.

'All the looting we did raised my standards' Adama joked, clinking his own glass against his friends.

'It wasn't looting Bill, we were saving the best of Colonial civilisation from the Cylons' Tigh responded. 'Good stuff' he said appreciatively, trying some. 'So have we finally got an accurate count on the salvage?' he asked. The frantic day and a half they had spent in the Cyrannus System after the battle had meant the paperwork got messy so nobody had really known what had been loaded aboard the ships.

'I'll assume you're including the survivors we rescued in your definition of salvage' Adama replied, sipping at his own drink. 'Four-thousand eight hundred and eleven people rescued' he said checking the report he had been given. 'We might still lose a few to radiation sickness and other medical conditions though' he added regretfully.

Tigh raised his eyebrows. 'No wonder I keep finding damn civilians underfoot' he responded.

'There were probably more, maybe far more in hiding, but we couldn't risk staying any longer even if I had to insist some of our scouting teams give up the search' Adama said with a sigh. 'I actually had to have the Marines force Sam Anders off Caprica at gun-point you know.'

'Can't blame the man for wanting to find more survivors but if we gave the Cylons more time to recover from the ass-kicking we might have regretted it' Tigh noted. 'It was the right call Bill' he told his friend. 'Try to save everybody and you might not save _anybody_.'

Adama nodded, that didn't make him feel much better to think there could be hundreds, perhaps thousands more civilians still there in the Colonies who he had now left behind twice. 'Finding what was left of the _Atlas_, _Solaria_ and _Atlantia_was our best result other than the people and the nukes' he opined.

'You mean the back half of the _Solaria_ and the starboard flight pod of the _Atlantia_ we found orbiting Virgon don't you?' Tigh responded grimly. _Atlas_had been in better shape although it was still not remotely intact enough to be made operational again.

'We got three good FTL's out of those ships plus spare parts as well as Vipers and enough rounds for the guns to replenish most of those we expended over Aquaria' Adama reminded him. 'It was a good haul.'

'The crews that had to work around all those bodies might have thought otherwise' Tigh suggested. _Atlas_might have been in mostly one piece but it was open to space thanks to several breaches in the hull and a mixture of hard radiation from nuclear strikes and exposure to vacuum had killed the crew. The salvage teams had been surrounded by thousands of corpses while they tried to strip the vessel of anything worth taking. 'So how many Vipers total?' he asked.

'For Mark VII's we've got a full complement of eighty in the flight pods, plus another ten more in the bays and thirty-three clamped to the hull' Adama replied, in some ways having _Galactica_missing so much armour over her ribbing made the job much easier, you could attach Vipers and other salvage all over the place. From a distance the hull currently looked like the battlestar had a skin disorder or something. 'We've also got a squadron of old Mark V's which belonged to the Aerilon Planetary Guard too' he added.

'Mark V's?' Tigh responded in surprise, 'I thought the Weekend Warriors in the Guard were all using the Mark VI's the Fleet disposed of cheap?' he queried.

'I guess the government of Aerelon couldn't even afford those' Adama reasoned, Aerilon which happened to be Tigh's home colony was poor and it's government wouldn't have exactly been awash with tax revenue. The Planetary Guard on Caprica conversely was almost as well equipped as the fleet itself. 'Don't knock the Mark V, it's a good fighter' he said. The post-war Mark III and IV vipers weren't really that much better than the old Mark II but the V was a good step up in performance thanks to the improved turbo design, and it was also the first Viper to mount a third KEW.

'I'd have still preferred a few more modern birds' Tigh opined.

'So would I but we got good work out of our museum-piece Mark II's so I wasn't going to leave behind anything useful we could get' Adama replied then chuckled. 'We found an original Mark I still in working order in a pissant aviation museum on Leonis too. If it would have fitted in one of our launch tubes I might have taken that as well but it wouldn't so we left it there' he said regretfully before smiling again. 'Did you hear they found one of the new model Stealthstars in a hanger a few kilometres from what used to be Fleet Headquarters on Picon?' he asked.

Tigh smiled. 'I was on the CIC when that call came in' he said. 'Very sweet find' he said appreciatively.

'It must have been undergoing flight-testing when the war started, it hadn't been handed over to the Fleet yet it was on a civilian airfield used by one of the big Aerospace Companies which could be why the Cylons didn't find or destroy it' Adama reasoned. 'They would have had enough to do looking through military bases and hunting survivors first before they started checking out everywhere else.'

'Guess their frakking intelligence wasn't perfect then' Tigh replied. They hadn't known about that bunker on Aquarius either of course, damn Toasters couldn't infiltrate the whole of Colonial Society with only a few identical models. 'We might still have to shift some of the Raptors we salvaged from the wrecks over Scorpia and Picon to the civilian ships, the Chief is complaining about lack of space to work in' he said. Although the Colonial Fleet had far more Vipers than Raptors the latter had survived the destruction of the ships or stations they were on in a proportionally greater number because they were simply built so much tougher.

'Some of them are probably only useful for parts, have them stripped and if there's still a problem have a few more clamped to the _Chrion_, she's larger and she's got a better thrust-to-weight ratio than the freighters so it shouldn't be an issue' Adama replied. Including those they had arrived at Cyrannus with they now had thirty-two Raptors in varying states of repair in or on _Galactica_and another four already attached to the liner. The Cylon's had in fact recovered quite a few themselves, mainly from any intact ground facilities, but since the Heavy Raider was generally more capable anyway they hadn't put a major effort into salvaging more from the drifting hulks of the Colonial Fleet.

'Her Captain is already moaning that having all those cargo containers on his hull is screwing with his ability to manoeuvre' Tigh reminded Adama. 'If he says anything else I could always threaten to lighten the load by personally throwing him out of an airlock' he offered.

'Just tell him that a few more fifty-ton Raptors aren't going to make a difference to a ship that already masses tens of thousands of tons' Adama advised his XO.

'He just doesn't like all that crap ruining the nice clean lines of his boat' Tigh observed. 'We should have lied and told him the containers we put there were the ones holding the Colonial Bank Reserves not just a load of spare parts and the tooling for a jump-drive assembly line' he said. 'The Captain of the _Carina_moaned less when we told him that he got to carry a few tons worth of dead Centurions in his hold for frak's sake.'

'Given that we'd already started welding Raiders to the _Virgon Express_he wasn't in much of a position to complain' Adama replied. Of the thousand-plus Raiders which had been taken out dozens had still been almost intact, often with just a neat laser burn right through their AI, and ten of the best of these had been recovered along with a squadron's worth of pristine Heavy Raiders taken as spoils of war on Aquaria. The other Heavy Raiders had been stripped of their navigation computers and FTL's, with the parts now filling the cargo bays of the two Wolverine dropships. Unfortunately since it had been done in a mad rush, with the two Mercury III battlemechs used to simply cut and even tear the Heavy Raiders open, quite a few of the FTL's were probably broken beyond repair and an even higher proportion of the more fragile computers were likely unusable.

The basestars had self-destructed before they could be examined, just as the civilian ships jumped back to Cyrannus after being fetched by Raptors as it happened, but it wasn't like they had the time to do it properly anyway. Adama was only relieved he managed to recover all the nuclear devices from the bunker on Aquaria before more Basestars and Raiders started jumping in. They had found twenty-five fifty-kiloton anti-ship missiles plus a large amount of conventional ordinance much of which they had to reluctantly leave behind. However the three hundred early-model Lightning-Javelin air-to-air missiles they discovered in racks were now adding to Chief Tyrol's problems since they weren't exactly something you could just pile up in a corner.

When the first scout Raiders had started to appear Adama called a halt to the last-ditch salvage efforts, jumped the civilian ships back out again and then after making sure every team was accounted for they had left the Twelve Colonies once again and headed back to New Circe, albeit by what Adama intended to be a highly circuitous route designed to throw any Cylon pursuit off the scent.

Saul Tigh finished his Ambrosia and held his glass up to the light. 'There's something wrong with this glass' he said.

'If it's the way light shines through it then you could always paint it black' Adama suggested. 'No hitting the bottle hard until we're at least another ten jumps out from Cyrannus' he ordered.

'What kind of man gives you a taste for it then cuts you off?' Tigh replied.

'The kind they give battlestars to' Adama replied.

'If being a sadist was a requirement to command a battlestar they would have given me one _years_ago' Tigh responded.

'And you don't think Ellen's getting drunk and telling those obscene jokes at that dinner party on Tauron maybe had a role to play in limiting your rank progression?' Adama wryly inquired.

'Nah, it was her pole-dancing in front of Admiral Corman and his wife at the Officers Ball on Picon which was the nail in the coffin of my career' Tigh told him. 'If she'd been wearing underwear it might have all turned out differently' he added wistfully.

'You know technically you're now the third highest ranked officer in the entire Fleet' the Admiral pointed out.

'Don't play it down Bill' Tigh replied, 'for a while there I was dictator of what we thought was the entire frakking human race' he noted. 'I wasn't that good at it though' he admitted, his rule of martial law after Adama was shot by Boomer hadn't exactly been a shining success story.

'Well it's something for your résumé at least' Adama told him. 'We're due the next jump in the sequence in ten minutes, best get up to the CIC' he suggested.

'A jump every two hours is frakking uncivilised' Tigh complained. 'And we need to keep an eye on that bucket-of-bolts they made on Scorpia, I don't think the FTL on that tub will take this kind of treatment very long' he said. 'I know having another ship we could load with cargo is great but it's a load of scrap held together with duct tape' he opined.

'Makes you wonder how we survived a jump every thirty-three minutes as long as we did' Adama remarked.

'We fed the pilots lots of drugs' Tigh replied. 'And we took turns sleeping for a few minutes at a time.'

'Oh yeah that was it' Adama recalled. 'If that starts happening again let's just stop running and just nuke the frakkers so we can get a decent nights sleep' he said semi-seriously. 'We're not getting any younger Saul' he noted sadly.

'What if they nuke us back?' Tigh responded. 'We're already using up all our anti-radiation drugs pumping them into the civilians we rescued' he pointed out.

Adama looked directly at Tigh. 'Why the hell would you be worried about radiation?' he asked rhetorically. 'How much more hair have you got left to fall out anyway?' he asked deadpan.

Saul Tigh narrowed his eyes at the Admiral. 'Oh you're _definitely_going to have to pour me another drink as an apology for that one' he told Adama seriously.

'Yeah I went too far there' Adama conceded, reaching for the bottle so he could re-fill his friend's glass.

* * *

**City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3045 CE**

Lord Protector Vaun looked over the holographic projection in relief showing the territory of the Colonial City-State. Lines of advance were superimposed from six directions with symbols indicating which units were assigned to each with the Regimental Combat Teams of the 331st forming the bulk of the formations but with five Brigades of Infantry drawn from a partial mobilisation of the reserves bolstering the numbers. One advantage to having the Colonial luddites not present was being able to use more advanced means of holding a briefing such as this computer-controlled projection you could view from all angles.

Admiral Franks was walking about the projection explaining the plan. 'Once we have achieved both Orbital and Air Supremacy the ground units will quickly advance to secure the population and lock them down tight' he said. 'Given that we'll be deploying more soldiers than they have people in total it shouldn't be too bloody but I think we can expect the Colonial Military to put up a fight, and a certain percentage of the civilians are bound to resist as well.'

'Bloody for who?' Vaun asked.

'Probably more so for us given that the rules of engagement will be extremely strict' Franks replied. 'Our troops will not fire unless fired upon and only where there is no chance of collateral damage or the deaths of non-combatants' he said.

'What if the Colonial Military opt to use their own civilians as human shields?' Vaun suggested. 'The evidence from the actions of the _Pegasus_crew indicates they don't place as much value on their people as we do ours.'

'We have an escalating series of contingency plans ranging from use of non-lethal weaponry to the use of overwhelming force to end the stand-off with as few civilian fatalities as possible' Admiral Franks told her. 'The other Joint Chiefs and myself are confident that we can keep their losses to an absolute minimum, we don't want their blood on our hands' he said honestly.

Vaun nodded her head. 'Thank the rest of the Joint Chiefs and the personnel involved in producing this plan for their efforts on my behalf please Admiral' she requested. 'I only hope we never have to put it into action' she added with sincerity.

Franks moved into a parade-rest stance. 'A hope we all share Madam Lord Protector' he concurred. 'Although unification of all human worlds and societies under the Star League is the ultimate goal we agree that a gradual process of cultural assimilation is to be far preferred to a military annexation in this case' he said. 'We already outnumber the Colonials on the world considerably and with our higher rates of reproduction within a couple of generations at most they'll represent such a small fraction of the people on this world that they'll simply vanish from history, end up as a few small ethnic groups within our overall population' he said.

'It's such a shame in some ways, they're so interesting from an anthropological point of view, Query Affirmative' Vaun observed with a sigh.

'Affirmative, but what else are we going to do?' Admiral Franks asked rhetorically. 'Recreate the Tribal Reservations of North America on Terra, have tourists come and see the quaint people from Caprica?'

'See the crazy Sagitarrons die of preventable diseases in their own environment' Vaun added with a wry smile, playing along. 'No we'll just assimilate them peacefully like you say' she told him. 'Given how many of our young male population seem to be drooling over the munchkin girls we can probably achieve a lot of the task of absorbing them into our society through inter-marriage' she said.

'Munchkins?' Franks repeated the unfamiliar nickname with amusement.

'You haven't heard that one yet?' Vaun asked in surprise. 'I heard it from my youngest daughter who picked it up at school. It's because they're all so small' she explained then trying to keep a straight-face she adopted a silly voice. 'Follow the map in the stars, follow the map in the stars, follow, follow, follow, follow, follow the map in the stars. Oh we're off to see the Lost Tribe, the wonderful Lost-Tribe of Earth' she sang.

Franks burst out laughing. 'We'd better make sure not to show the film to any of them. Query Affirmative?' he replied. 'Although I've met plenty who needed more heart or brains' he said.

'Affirmative' Vaun agreed. 'We're not from Kobol anymore Toto' she quipped with a chuckle before becoming more serious again. 'If I gave the word how fast could we get this plan underway?' she wanted to know.

'We could get sufficient units in place and begin the invasion within seven hours but a full day would be better' Franks replied, 'three days ideally since we could then mobilise enough of the reserves to make it all as bloodless as possible' he said. 'Making the entire population bondsmen as an interim measure might be the best means of dealing with them, it would certainly help with the legal aspects, but if we did that we would ideally have to find a decent _casus belli_to declare war on them first' he noted.

'Admiral, not being a Stefan Amaris or Nicolas Kerensky wannabe the only reason I would _ever_order a military annexation of the Colonial City-State would be if they gave me little recourse but to do so, so I think you can be confident of having that' Vaun told him. 'I just want this option in my back pocket if the element in their society that is even more objectionable than their current administration ever takes power' she said.

Franks looked at the holographic depiction of the City-State once again. 'You know once they've got a real city built it'll all be a potentially bloodier undertaking' he said. 'Urban warfare is a killing ground for mechs and our Infantry won't like being sniped at or petrol-bombed from the roofs of buildings' he noted. 'Although there may be moral and ethical objections from much of our population, and Parliament and the Courts would go insane, we can make a good argument that using the Wars of Reunification as a precedent the SLDF is empowered to take over worlds or territory of any independent power and force them into compliance with the Star League' he suggested.

It was an article of faith amongst the Wolverines that the human race needed to be united under one authority, if one that that tended to adopt a largely hands-off attitude and generally allowed a reasonable amount of self-determination and independence in local government. Prior to the formation of the Star League in 2571 humanity had been wracked by the so-called "Age of War" during which all the various interstellar powers had devoted much of their energies to slaughtering each other, and after the fall of the Star League in 2781 the various interstellar powers had embarked on the Succession Wars during which they devoted _even more_of their energies into slaughtering each other.

The reign of the Star League had not been an era of relative peace and prosperity because everyone that saw the Cameron Star flag flying suddenly became nice, it was a period of relative peace and prosperity because the Star League had adopted a policy of beating the ever-loving crap out of anyone that caused trouble. During the Wars of Reunification they forced every star-nation to join the League at the point of the main guns of the fleet if necessary, and they were not above landing whole divisions on worlds reluctant to accept League affiliation and stomping them into submission with battlemechs either. The Star League wasn't really tyrannical, it had an idealistic vision of what humanity should and could be, but it was the epitome of the iron fist in the velvet glove. If you broke from the mould of what the League thought was acceptable behaviour then the great fist of the SLDF would be dispatched to knock you on your ass. Woe betide any planetary government who ruled their world through obvious torture or brutality because once day the League might decide to make an example of you and send the mighty battleships and elite regiments of the Star League Defence Force to demonstrate in no uncertain terms what brutality _really_meant.

What they had heard of the history of the Twelve Colonies had only confirmed the Wolverine view of both the universe and human nature generally. Before unification under the Articles of Colonisation the various independent worlds of Cyrannus had fought each other in a series of vicious wars, this being of course why the Cylons were first developed as disposable foot-soldiers for the Caprican military, and when they weren't doing that they had engaged in civil wars at home instead, some very bloody. It had taken a unifying threat in the form of the rebelling machines to bring the Colonies together and the subsequent interwar period had been considerably better for the populace in general than the previous interplanetary conflicts had ever allowed. The Colonial Government was in effect a mini Star League and it had been wiling to use the fleet to maintain order when necessary too, again mirroring the SLDF in a way.

Vaun looked at the Admiral askance after considering his words. 'You aren't advocating an invasion right now are you Query Negative?' she asked coldly.

'Negative' Franks replied instantly 'However I feel I should point out it will be easier now than later' he said. 'The City-State will be less onerous to take at present and with _Galactica_absent their military is weaker than it would be otherwise.'

Vaun pointed at herself. 'Just to repeat for your benefit' she said. '_Not_Stefan Amaris' she told him again. 'Violence is the last resort of a civilised society, we only use force to make sure that civilisation lasts' she declared.

'Pesky civilian control of the military' Admiral Franks responded with a smile. 'Just doing my duty by presenting all the options' he told her. If she _had_ ordered an invasion at this time he would have advised and counselled against it. 'Moving onto other things we've continued our shipments of munitions to the _Pegasus_, her point-defence batteries are now almost fully stocked with ammunition, and work on the hybrid autocannon design is well underway' he told her.

'Excellent' Vaun replied. 'Any news yet regarding progress on the new jump-drive technology?' she queried.

'We'll need the permission of President Roslin and the Quorum of course but our engineers are confident we can install medium-sized jump-drives taken from two of the civilian vessels into our Titan Class Dropships as an initial project' Franks replied. 'A pair of jump-capable Light Carriers with eighteen aerospace fighters aboard apiece would greatly improve our ability to project power.'

'I thought the Titan's had been removed from service decades ago. Query Affirmative?' Vaun asked.

'Affirmative' Franks confirmed, 'but they were mothballed, not stripped for parts Ma'am' Franks told her. 'Given how useful they were in supporting our ground troops during the fighting on Jarrett it was decided to keep them for a rainy day, unlike some of our other vessels' he said.

'What about jump-fighters?' Vaun asked.

'If we can get the drives we don't see any problem refitting a Kirghiz with the FTL design from a Colonial Raptor' Franks replied. 'It will have less jump-range because it's got twice the mass and some modifications are needed, plus it'll need an additional fuel tank for the Tylium needed to run it until we can come up with a version we can run from a good old-fashioned fusion reactor, but all together it'll weigh just over five tons at the outside' he told her. 'Less than four once we have a drive that'll work off the reactor.'

'What's the delay with modifying the drive to not need tylium?' Vaun queried.

'The problem is that the Colonials have a less than thorough understanding of the theory behind it all, they don't even think they invented them they just copied what they inherited from the original Kobolians.' Admiral Franks replied. 'Our Kearny-Fuchida drives are frankly third-rate by comparison but we knew far more about how they actually _work_ which is also why we invented faster-than-light communication and the Colonials never did' he said. 'The Cylons _do_however seem to have some kind of FTL comms because their downloads at least are interstellar in range, and we know they also have better jump technology too, so we reason they're ahead of the Colonials in both FTL theory and application.'

'Is that scientist of theirs Baltar proving much use on the R&D front?' the Lord Protector asked.

'He's certainly smart enough, we tested his IQ out at genius level and he has a good understanding of Colonial Science generally' Franks replied. 'Once we gave him the equations for the K-F drive and the HPG he filled in an awful lot of the blanks himself' the Admiral continued. 'With our own physicists and engineers working on the problem too I can see far-jumping being a reality rather than a theory quicker than we initially hoped' he said happily.

'Far-jumping?' Vaun queried.

'It's what they're calling it' Franks told her, 'It'll need a compact KF core, Lithium-Fusion batteries, Colonial anti-gravity tech plus some other additions from their own drive designs and a _lot_of engineering and testing but we've already got an idea of the capabilities based on known data.'

Vaun was intrigued. 'So what are we talking about?' she asked.

'The range limit seems to be roughly nine-hundred light-years according to the math, anything beyond that and the chances of cooking the drive starts to rise exponentially' Franks replied, 'although I admit I couldn't understand enough of the equations to begin to to know exactly why' he told her.

'_Nine hundred_light-years?' Jennifer Vaun exclaimed in shock.

'It gets better' Franks continued. 'Unlike trying to have two K-F Drive cores on the same ship you _can_ theoretically operate both a Colonial Drive and a Kearny-Fuchida on the same vessel without them interfering with each other' the Admiral told her. 'We could build a ship that could make it all the way to the Clan homeworlds in less than five maximum range jumps and _then_do safe rapid tactical jumps of up to thirty light-years when it got there' he said. 'It would run rings around the Clans' he said. 'Ma'am, we could have the ability in a couple of years to annihilate them at will, a five week trip to Strana Mechty then nuke every clan into oblivion one after the other, jump into orbit, blast them, jump out, repeat as necessary.'

'Oh my God!' Vaun gasped.

'If you want a suggestion I like project "Sword of Damocles" as a name' Franks told her, 'it was an Ancient Greek legend after all' he noted. 'Oh and we were thinking of calling it the Kearny-Fuchida-Baltar Drive as a nod to our guests' he added with a smile.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_Given that they're loathe to use quite as much "stick" as the Colonials did the SLDF is continuing with a more "Carrot" based approach to the Cylon prisoners treating them decently in retturn for cooperation. The Ones are still not playing ball whatsoever for they're facing a rather more stern regime. Triad was a Colonial card game seen in the show. I thought having a Three and Six and an Eight playing it was an amusing notion given their differing personalities. I've put another latin phrase in the mouth of Romo Lampkin. Fiat justitia ruat caelum has been quoted a few times by judges in some famous legal cases. One of these was when Lord Justice Mansfield was making his decision in the Somersett Case which ruled Slavery illegal in England in 1772, he knew that it was a verdict with a momental effect on society but justice for the individual concerned (the slave James Somersett) was deemed more important than the consequences of the ruling more generally. Hope you like the legal/political implications of Gina facing trial. Given that it was the Colonial Fleet that broke the armistice first puts a somewhat different light on things although the Cylon's drastic overreaction was hardly excusable._

_Having filled their cargo bays they then resorted to simply welding or clamping additional salvage to the outer hulls of the ships. We see vipers and raiders carried that way in the show so it doesn't seem to be an issue. Atlantia was lost in a battle over Virgon with a few other ships (it's mentioned in the mini-series) and I had a mental image of a battlestar being blown into large chunks with a relatively intact flight-pod being one of them. If it was a Mercury Class like Pegasus it could have still been holding several squadrons worth of vipers. Solaria is another named battlestar from the show, this one had the front half blown off leaving one of her FTL's intact plus other equipment. The third salvaged Battlestar Atlas is the most intact and might have been recovered eventually if they had more time to fix the thing. According to dialogue there were apparently about 120 Battlestar's in the fleet I've just had Atlas as the one left in the largest piece, the Cylon's were thorough enough to render the vast majority of the fleet little more than scrap. Having the various "Planetary Guards" of the Colonies use second-hand Colonial Fleet equipment is just my own invention but it mirrors the US Air National Guard that way. As the Fleet switched to the Mark VII Viper I envisioned the older Mark VI models being transferred or sold to the planetary governments (we know individual colonies had their own armed vessels), Aerilon was a notably poor colony so they were still using a few even older Mark V's as well when the war started. The part-time pilots of the Guard had no warning to mobilise so they were killed in their homes by the Cylon sneak attack which is why their Vipers were still in the hangers._

_Now you didn't think the Wolvies were all sweetness and light now did you? You can't really understand them without realising how the Age of War, the Reunification Wars and the Succession Warscolour their views, plus of course the attempted genocide they suffered at the hands of the other Clans. The New Circe Wolverines are capable of being incredibly ruthless and rationalise it away with an appeal to the greater good. They're a society of great contradictions pulled in different directions by their origins. The Titan Class dropship is an aerospace-fighter carrier, the reason I think they would have a couple is that the SLDF had a decent number when they left the Inner Sphere with Aleksandyr Kerensky and it's said that during the fighting on Jarett the Minnesota Tribe kept the Draconis Combine forces tied down with large numbers of aerospace fighters. If there had been a huge warship around to launch them it should have been noticed so I was thinking Titan's instead. Also the Titans of legend come from Ancient Greek Myth so it's a nice addition I thought. Although the normal limit on a K-F Drive is 30LY you can hotwire it to get a much longer jump, the record being 900LY which is why I chose that limit for the K-F-B Drive. Unlike a K-F however the K-F-B doesn't destroy itself doing a super-jump because of the modifications made by Colonial FTL and gravity control. Strana Mechty is the clan capital world incidentally._


	12. Chapter 11

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Ask yourself this Admiral, would Ares, the God of War, have really approved of the Conventions the Thirteenth named after him that sought to limit the use of Weapons of Mass Destruction? Personally I doubt it so if you really want my opinion Sir I say screw what the Wolvies think, Praise the Lords of Kobol and pass the Nuclear, Biological and Chemical ammunition."_

**Captain Aaron Kelly - 3046**

* * *

**Colonial One (Office of the President) – Colonial City-State – 3045 CE**

Wallace Gray stood up when the President entered. 'Sorry I'm late' she apologised, 'Tory insisted on me signing a new Bill into law before she would let me go' she told him. She also had to discuss the preparations for the upcoming trial of the Number Six Cylon "Gina" with Didi Cassidy who would be prosecuting, there were possible political considerations to be considered and Roslin wanted a freindly word in order to advise the lawyer not to stray too far into matters of Colonial Security or Defence Policy unless it was strictly necessary to get a conviction.

'I hope it was the one authorising work to begin on the new cement works?' Gray replied.

'Ah so that was _your_handiwork was it?' Roslin asked. 'Well I suppose it must have been, it wasn't trivial, needs to be done and actually makes sense' she said. 'So much of the legislation that passes through the Quorum is just a waste of ink and paper' she opined, taking a seat behind her desk. 'So have you considered my offer?' she asked.

'I've considered it' Gray replied noncommittally.

Roslin sighed. 'Wallace, I know asking you to withdraw your candidacy for Vice President in favour of Gaius Baltar damaged our friendship but you're still the best organiser and economics expert we have and I would dearly like you to play an important part in my administration as Secretary of Commerce and Development' she told him. 'You're already dabbling in politics at a lower level, advising members of the Quorum on policy' she noted. 'Why not step up and get things done yourself?' she asked.

Gray leaned forward. 'Laura, you know I want to serve the people' he began, 'and you really know how much I hate seeing things go to hell just for lack of a coherent strategy, but to be frank how can I be sure that if the opinion polls start leaning one way you won't just put politics ahead again and push me aside for someone that isn't regarded as...'

'The Prince of Darkness?' Roslin finished the sentence for him.

'I was going to say a dull, technocratic gasbag but "Prince of Darkness" would at least have a touch of class about it' Gray responded with a chuckle.

'We're trying to set up a new nation, it's been getting harder and harder for me to keep everything going and the more I rely on other people the more I realise how many of the people that work for me are either well-meaning and inept or self-serving and corrupt' Roslin told him. 'I need someone honest who also has actual talent and to be frank the list of those people isn't as long as I would like it to be' she said. 'All the other remotely qualified candidates are _already_ in jobs I need them to be doing so I need _you_to make sure that the economy doesn't implode while still making sure we don't work the people into the ground.'

'Facing another strike for better wages from the logging crews?' Gray asked knowingly.

Roslin groaned. 'I tried to explain that the government is barely keeping its head above water in terms of finances, and that we can't just print more money, but they weren't having any of it' she said. 'We're already up to our eyeballs in debt thanks to all the loans we've taken out from the Wolvies and I don't want to face a collapse in our currency too' she said.

Gray shook his head. 'We set the exchange rate at the wrong level' he stated flatly. 'Cubits need to be devalued at least twenty-five percent against League Script' he told her. 'We'll never be able to export goods across the border and the cheap imports are preventing us developing indigenous industries that are competitive' he said. 'We could introduce protective tariffs but do we really want to start a trade war?' he asked rhetorically.

'So what are you saying?' Roslin asked.

'You _do_want to print more money and devalue our currency' Gray told her. 'Just make sure to do it gradually so we don't spin off into hyper-inflation or have people suddenly lose their faith in the stuff' he continued. 'Promise a staggered series of payrises spread over the next two years, the workers will be happy and it'll slowly sort out our import and export problem.'

Roslin smiled. 'Take the job' she told him, 'you know you want to' she wheedled.

'Okay, but I'll want to be included in those pay increases too Laura' Gray replied with a wink.

'Thank the Gods' Roslin said with relief. 'You don't even want to know who I was going to have to ask next' she told him. 'I'm hoping that Admiral Adama brings back enough salvage to clear the national debt and then some but we can't rely on the League people paying us for technological trinkets to keep us afloat forever' she told him.

Gray nodded. 'Perhaps we should have negotiated more for our jump-drive designs and artificial gravity technology?' he suggested.

'We asked for a _fortune_, I just had no idea how much it was going to cost to get all the armour replaced on _Galactica_ for one thing' Roslin replied. 'Their orbital factories are working around the clock to turn out enough steel plates to re-clad her when she returns but just after I saw the cost estimates for that then Lee Adama comes to me with a request to add additional armour to _Pegasus_' she said.

'I thought _Pegasus_ had all her plating still intact?' Gray queried. The newer battlestar certainly wasn't showing all the exposed ribbing that _Galactica_was.

Roslin frowned. 'After seeing how much better their "lamellor ferro-carbide" armour is than anything we can make Adama the Younger has this notion of adding a hundred-thousand tons of the stuff to his ship' she said, rolling her eyes. 'Unless his father brings back most of Caprica I don't think we'll be able to afford it' she told him.

'They _do_make good war-toys here now don't they?' Gray observed rhetorically.

'Purchasing enough lasers to equip all our Vipers gave our credit another nasty knock' Roslin told him. 'For that matter do you know how much a single thirty-millimetre round for a Viper or a fifty-millimetre round for a point-defence battery costs?' she asked. '_Pegasus_ needs _millions_of them to re-fill her ammunition stocks' she groaned.

'At least we found a world with an unusually developed military-industrial complex' Gray responded.

'I'd call them paranoid but given that there really _are_people out to get them I guess it's more like being well-prepared' Roslin commented.

Gray leaned back in his chair looking thoughtful. 'Our mining ships are currently prioritising tylium and strategic metals for Viper production' he said. 'Our tylium reserves are good now so we could start selling a fair proportion of any production from now on to the Wolvies' he suggested. 'As long as we don't charge enough to make it worthwhile for them to develop their own mining and refining infrastructure for it instead we could earn a decent amount of foreign currency to offset our defence spending' he told her. 'If we reduced Viper production rates we could mine and produce even more tylium.'

'Oh the military _really_wouldn't like that' Roslin replied.

'They haven't got enough trained pilots to warrant a full complement of Vipers on both battlestars anyway' Gray noted. 'By the time they do even a fifty-percent reduction in how many _Pegasus_is currently manufacturing a month would probably get them there' he said. 'I was watching a news report a couple of days ago which featured a segment on pilot training, they're not rushing them through flight-school any more so the process is taking a lot longer than it did when we had Cylons right on our tail' he pointed out.

Roslin began tapping her fingers on her desk. 'It's an idea' she replied. 'If the Colonial Fleet wants their bullets they'll have to be content with less spare Vipers' she said.

'Agricultural goods are another thing we should be pushing in trade terms' Gray told her. 'There are bound to be fruits or vegetables from back home that we can grow and sell as novelty foodstuffs to the Wolvies at a hefty mark-up' he said. 'Fumarella Leaf is another possibility; I know farmers have already started cultivating it for our own people along with that weed that grows here.'

'Unfortunately that weed is already a banned substance over the border because not only is it a mild psychotropic it's carcinogenic too which means fumarella would never be allowed either' Roslin told him. 'They think we're all mad for taking smoke into our lungs that causes cancer' she said before shrugging her shoulders. 'They _may_have a point there' she had to agree, albeit reluctantly.

'So they don't allow recreational drug use?' Gray queried.

'Only alcohol, but when I pointed out the hypocrisy there I was told they can grow replacement livers a lot easier than replacement brains and they've also removed the genes from their population that make people susceptible to developing alcoholism' Roslin replied.

Gray laughed. 'They think there's a genetic cause for _everything_' he said.

'More like a genetic predisposition for _nearly_everything' Roslin replied. 'Violent behaviour, intelligence, risk-taking... you name it they say they can point to the DNA concerned, although sometimes it's a combination of different genes that are responsible' she replied.

'Have they made much progress looking at Cylon DNA?' Gray wondered.

'Enough to think they could clone human/cylon hybrids and bring them to term in their "Iron Womb" machines' Roslin told him. 'No they aren't going to they say but they're pretty certain they could' she said. 'They're far beyond us in all the required fields, and likely ahead of the cylons too given that we know that the Toasters breeding program on Caprica never got anywhere.'

'So have they developed a working Cylon detector yet based on all this fancy genetic science they have?' Gray asked.

'You're _definitely_taking the job aren't you?' Roslin checked. 'Some of what I'm telling you isn't for the general public yet' she told him seriously.

'Yes I'm taking the job' Gray confirmed.

'Okay, they don't have a blood-test as such but they do think after months of examining and scanning the Cylon prisoners they've got a Cylon detector that will work' Roslin told him.

'Radiation-based like the one former VP Baltar developed?' Gray queried.

'No that didn't work, although they say they can't figure out quite why assuming that he didn't just frak it up' Roslin replied. 'They say they can use a flight simulator though, or rather some bits of one.'

'A _flight simulator_?' Gray responded incredulously.

'Their pilots wear Neural Interface helmets' Roslin explained. 'The sillica pathways in a Cylon brain don't connect up to the machine properly, apparently humans with brain-damage can't use one either so we'll have to make sure of the results with a cat-scan afterwards if we get a positive result' she said. 'They're going to try and perfect the equipment and testing procedure so it only takes a couple of minutes per person then make several units' she said. 'Screen the whole population quickly.'

'Nice to know our brains do _something_better than the Cylons' Gray said with a grin.

Roslin shook her head. 'Nope, they think once a Neural Interface helmet is modified and tuned to work with a skinjob brain it'll be faster than for a human' she told him. 'How did that go?' she tried to recall. 'Something like "our wetware isn't as optimised for connecting to hardware" I think it was' she continued. 'It's just a case of translating from one programming language to another.'

'I guess all Toasters are equals under the skin' Gray joked.

Roslin laughed then her eyes widened and her expression shifted to one of concern as a thought occurred to her. 'You don't think they're stupid enough to try and make those cylon/human hybrids they think they can produce if they think they'd be producing the ultimate fighter-pilots do you?' she asked nervously.

Wallace Gray blinked. 'They couldn't be _that_naive could they?' he asked. 'The damn things would turn against them like ours did.'

'But what if they thought they could program them?' Roslin asked. 'I don't mean hard-code them, I mean what if they thought raising them like they do other children from the Iron Wombs, adopting them into families would lead to...'

'Patriotism, love of family and homeland' Gray said, thinking it through. 'Primitive tribal instincts coupled with cultural and societal moulding' he continued. 'The Cylons rose up against us because we kept them as slaves, what if we'd given the things the vote instead, treated them like our own children and told them we loved them?'

'The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world' Roslin said quietly.

'Or the hand that holds the test-tube rules the galaxy perhaps?' Gray suggested. 'Given maybe twenty years or so they could breed an army.'

Roslin slowly broke into a smile, it had seemed a horrific notion for a while but then she remembered the big-picture. 'There are over two-thousand human colonised worlds with fourtrillion people on them' she said. 'What could one planet with less than a million inhabitants really do?' she asked rhetorically with a chuckle.

The ludicrously outnumbered Wolverines emerging from a hidden world two decades from now, intent on taking on the entire Inner Sphere,plus all the Clans, in order to try and restore the Star League by force using advanced jumpdrives and cyborg soldiers interfaced directly with their machines... well the entire idea was just patently ridiculous wasn't it?

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Lacking an office, or even his own quarters onboard the ship, Colonel McEvedy had taken to borrowing one of the airlocks whenever a subordinate requested a private meeting. It wasn't exactly homely but it was at least relatively soundproof when you closed the internal hatch, this being a definite plus given his habit of bellowing foul language at those who had screwed up.

McEvedy listened to the young officer babble for a while and eventually cut him off by raising a hand. 'Lieutenant Cale how much is your battlemech worth?' he asked.

Cale looked confused, he couldn't see the relevance. 'With the current weapon load-out a Mercury III comes in at about five million and change Sir' he replied.

'That's a lot of money for the hard-working taxpayers of New Circe to put into your hands now isn't it Cale, Query Affirmative?' McEvedy queried.

'Affirmative. Well yes Sir, I suppose it is' Cale conceded.

'Then perhaps you can explain why the Star League should entrust such an expensive and valuable military asset to a man who is so damn stupid he _can't even figure out birth control_!' the Colonel thundered at the end.

Cale grimaced. 'I thought my implant still had another few months on it' he replied sheepishly. 'They're supposed to be good for at least a year' he pointed out.

'You're _supposed_to get those things regularly checked' McEvedy reminded him, poking him on the upper arm roughly where his birth-control implant would have been surgically placed. The implant would slowly release chemicals into your bloodstream to prevent unwanted pregnancy. Woman on New Circe used a similar device that released somewhat different chemicals. Between the two the system was considered foolproof because the chances of both failing, or running out early, were slim.

'I guess I was busy Sir' Cale responded, 'distracted' he added.

'It's what you were busy _doing_that's got you into this situation Lieutenant' Colonel McEvedy wryly replied. 'I assume that she's going to keep it based on your request?' he asked.

'Yes Sir, abortion is illegal for the Colonials anyway' Cale replied. 'I just want to do right by her' he said.

'And your version of doing right by the girl is saddling her with a name that would suit a porn star is it?' McEvedy asked with a wry smile, 'I mean, _Cally Cale_for Christ's sake!' he exclaimed. 'It sounds like she should be starring in "Colonial Girls Go Wild" or something.'

Cale narrowed his eyes at the Colonel. 'I respect you Sir' he said, 'and I know that you're Infantry and can probably beat me senseless in a fistfight, but make another joke like that about her and we'll find out in a Circe of Equals' he vowed.

McEvedy looked him in the eyes, the boy had passed the test there. 'You love her then?' he checked.

'Yes Sir' Cale replied forcefully.

'Good, then permission of marry is granted' the Colonel told him. 'I'd still consider a hyphenated surname though Son' he added semi-seriously.

'Her real name is Calandra' the mechwarrior lieutenant told him.

'Calandra Cale sounds much more classy, stick to that' McEvedy advised. 'How could she be this far gone before she knew anyway?' he queried.

'She's been taking Anti-TDS drugs to stop her getting nauseous when we jump' Cale replied, 'I didn't know before but they stop morning-sickness too' he explained. 'What with all the excitement back at Cyrannus... well I guess she didn't notice something not happening regularly like normal' he reasoned.

'No, I meant what with the _size_of her, surely she showed before now' McEvedy responded. The girl was fairly diminutive even by Colonial standards. 'My kids were from an Iron Womb but my sister was pretty obviously pregnant at less than this many weeks' he said. 'Face it there's hardly anything of your girl to start with.'

'Doc Ljungberg says that some women carry it differently than others or something' Cale replied with a shrug. She _had_been getting a little bigger but he put that down to better diet at first.

'So you got her checked out by a real clinician not that chain-smoking witch-doctor then?' McEvedy responded. 'Good' he opined. The child was one of the Clan which meant he or she was precious in the eyes of all Wolverines, you protect your own.

'Cally insisted on talking to Doctor Cottle first, I had to talk her into seeing Ljungberg too' Cale told him. 'You know the Colonials, they're skittish around our high-tech stuff' he noted. 'It was probably the First Cylon War, they used to be more technophile say half a century back' he told the infantry officer.

'You talk to them more than I do so I'll take your word for it' McEvedy replied. He had picked up some Caprican during his time on _Galactica_but not enough to really socialise or debate history with the ships crew. Fortunately Commander Thorpe was around to do that sort of thing, McEvedy was the ranking Wolverine on the mission but his job had been largely just to make sure that if there was any ground-fighting that the 331st stamped a Star League military-issue boot onto the face of any Cylons unfortunate enough to meet them in combat. 'So are you going to wait until we get back?' he asked.

'No that'll be weeks away even if the Admiral decides not to make another detour to be certain we're not being followed' Cale replied. 'There's a couple of Priests aboard who were helping out academic teams find and recover artefacts, Cally will probably want one of them to officiate.'

'You're not converting or anything are you?' McEvedy asked him curiously.

'No I'm still planning to remain a Lutheran, if not a very observant one I'll admit' Cale replied. 'My parents are more religious than me though, Mom is going to go ballistic when she finds out her first grandchild is going to be raised to believe in Zeus and the rest' he decided, 'and not just because she's a gunner in a reserve artillery unit' he added with a laugh. 'Better if I go back with a ring on my finger already, present them with a done-deal.'

'They're farmers right, your people I mean, Query Affirmative?' the Colonel checked, he had naturally read the files on all the personnel under his command. As a farm boy Cale had probably been driving agromechs on the family farm for years before he ever got to pilot the military version.

'Affirmative, but I bet they regret pushing me to get that education and become an officer when they find out what learning Greek got me' Cale replied. 'Cally's a wonderful girl but Dad is old-school and would want me to help breed the next generation of _real_Wolverines to help kill plenty of Nicky Kerensky's butt-boys when they catch up with us' he said then laughed. 'I must have been twelve before I realised "clannerbastards" wasn't one word and you didn't have to spit on the ground after saying it' he joked.

McEvedy laughed. 'You can always get your other kids fixed, have the rest from an Iron Womb with their DNA tweaked' he replied. 'Just make sure the girl doesn't get enough pain-medication during childbirth and she'll definitely not want to go through that again' he suggested. 'Of course "big" brother or sister will be the shortest of the lot by far' he noted. 'Cally's a mechanic right?' he asked.

'Aviation Technical Specialist' Cale corrected him.

'Whatever' McEvedy responded, she was still a grease-monkey however you said it. 'She can probably fix farming machinery, agromechs and stuff once she's seen how they're put together that might be a good approach if you want to think about the situation tactically' he said. 'She might be about half the size of the sort of daughter-in-law they wanted but if she can keep a tractor running that might endear her to them a little faster.'

Cale looked surprised, he had always thought the infantry weren't much good for anything but digging holes and charging down mechs with an Inferno Launcher and a death-wish but that was pretty smart he decided. Those McEvedy genes must still be working for the man he thought to himself. 'Good plan Sir' he replied. 'I should go tell Cally that as my Commanding Officer you've given permission, now she needs to talk to her people I guess' he said.

McEvedy nodded. 'Have you got her an engagement ring?' he asked. 'You'll need wedding bands for both of you too' he added.

'Where am I going to find a jewelers out here?' Cale inquired.

The Colonel sighed, mechwarriors were dumber than the armour plate on their machines he thought to himself. Those neurohelmets rotted the brain he was sure. 'Think _around_ the problem Lieutenant' he said. 'Find some of those gold cubit coins they use and get them melted down cast and polished if you have to' he said. 'That _can't_be beyond the technical ability of people that keep aerospace fighters operational' he reasoned.

Cale thought about that. 'They've probably got industrial diamonds somewhere too I'll bet.'

'At least _try_and find a gem-quality one before you knock the end off a drill-bit Cale' the Colonel told him with a sigh. 'You don't want people to think you're cheap as well as stupid' he advised.

Felix Gaeta was following the Admiral around the ship, briefing him as Adama did his inspection tour. 'Repairs to the junkyard wonder should be completed within six hours but we'll want to spin her FTL back up as slowly as possible Sir' he advised as Adama shook hands with another of the civilians rescued from Cyrannus, they were everywhere and there always seemed to be one more that hadn't already offered their profuse thanks.

'That nickname isn't very respectful to a ship that managed to make at least twenty times as many jumps as anyone predicted before it gave up on us Mr Gaeta' Adama chided.

Gaeta smiled. 'Perhaps so Sir but this is the third time we've had to delay a jump to fix her FTL now' he reminded the Admiral.

'We've got plenty of spares to keep her going' Adama pointed out, 'and it keeps the engineers and technicians busy and content' he added as they turned into the next corridor heading towards the starboard flight-pod. A mixed CAP of Vipers and Kirghiz was out watching over the fleet and with a number of Raptors scouting ahead for the next jump there was actually enough room in the hanger-deck to give it a proper inspection for once. Normally it was packed to the gills with aerospace craft.

To be honest Gaeta suspected that all the knuckledraggers would rather get a couple of extra hours in the sack, or the bar, than spend their time keeping the cobbled-together freighter from Scorpia running but he opted not to say so. 'Didn't see you at the game last night Sir' he noted, making conversation.

'Had dinner with Colonel McEvedy, Wing-Commander Defoe, Commander Thorpe and the XO' Adama replied. 'One of the civilians we found on Leonis was a chef, she did us a three course meal of traditional Leonis specialty dishes as a thank-you.'

'How did that go?' Gaeta asked.

Adama stopped and grinned. 'The ability to stomach vast amounts of fermented fish does _not_mean you can take the kind of spicy food they go for on Leonis' he said. 'They had tears streaming down their faces' he told him. 'They must have drunk two litres of water apiece.'

'Oh that just makes it worse' Gaeta responded, it just freed up your tastebuds for another assault.

'You know, I forgot to tell them' Adama replied, 'must be my age or something' he continued unconvincingly before resuming his walk. 'I hear Anders' team won again?' he asked.

'Yes, easily, but they all got smacked about a bit' Gaeta told him. 'Those SLDF Infantry guys and gals can't play pyramid to save their lives but they try hard and godsdamn they're big' he said. 'Anders got knocked flying twice.'

'Sounds like an entertaining match' Adama replied.

'Packed crowd' Gaeta told him, 'the civilians were really starting to get into it, screaming and cheering.'

Adama smiled. 'Good to hear' he said. Even something as simple as going to watch a pyramid game might aid the healing process, so many of the survivors they had found were traumatised by their experiences.

'Oh I forget to say, the Captain of the _Gemenon Traveller_ says that they can accommodate more of the civilians currently on _Galactica_now he's had more of a chance to properly stack some of his cargo' Gaeta announced. 'It got a little messy in the last few hours so the loading of one of the bays wasn't optimised' he said. 'We had a marine work-crew over there humping crates about and it's freed up room for perhaps another fifty people without crowding them in too badly.'

'Good, that means we can transfer the people over we've got sleeping on the deck in the cargo bay where we put those Lightning-Jaguars' Adama replied. 'Civilians and military ordinance are not a good mix even with all the signs saying "For the sake of the Lords of Kobol don't touch" all over them' he said. The unarmed missiles weren't really all that dangerous or unstable but he would still feel better not to have them in the vicinity of the possibly curious, clumsy, deranged or just plain idiotic. 'Give the civilians some warning, wait until after the next jump to make the transfer' he ordered.

'Aye Sir' Gaeta replied. 'The _Thera Sita_is due to dock and take on water after the next jump too just to remind you' he said.

'Make sure that the Captain and pilot of the ship know that if they come in as needlessly fast as they did last time I'll have them thrown out of an airlock' Adama responded evenly.

'An airlock Sir?' Gaeta repeated in amusement. 'I'm not sure of the legality of spacing civilians without a trial given that we're not currently operating under martial law' he pointed out.

'Okay Mr Gaeta, what's the worst thing I _can_do to them?' Adama asked him.

'Fire them I think, you do have command of the fleet and can determine who gets to Captain each vessel' Gaeta replied.

'I should be able to fire them out of one of the guns in the main battery' Adama opined. 'Those idiots nearly smashed right into us.'

'The _Thera Sita_ would have come off much worse from that than _Galactica_though' Gaeta noted.

Adama frowned. 'It's the principle of the thing, and we've already got one wreck that needs constant fixing.'

'So "Junkyard Wonder" isn't allowed but we can still call it a "Wreck" then Admiral?' Gaeta queried. 'Should I let everyone know?'

'Don't be a smart-ass Mr Gaeta, and given your years of service you should already know that the privilege of being a hypocrite only comes with being a Flag Officer' the Admiral told him.

* * *

**The Colony – Cylon Space – 3045CE**

'It's a pity we can't let the Fours into these meetings' the Cavil observed looking around the room at hi the trio of his identical "Brothers". 'They have a knack for science' he noted.

The Number One to his immediate left around the table shrugged. 'I always did wonder if we should have exempted them from the mind-wiping we inflicted on the others' he commented. 'For that matter the Five's show a great deal of promise too' he added.

'Now brothers we've been over that ground for years and it's just water over the dam now' a third Cavil told them. 'We had the other models wiped for a very good reason, just like we permanently got rid of the damn Sevens' he reminded them. 'They never grasped the big picture as well as we did, even if some of them had a better grasp of the basics' he said.

'True' the fourth Cavil agreed. 'Still I wish we'd been made with perhaps a little less Centurion and a little more Scientist sometimes' he continued. 'Now brothers we must decide what's to be done about these new humans, the supposed "Thirteenth Tribe from Earth" that aren't' he said.

'You know at least if we hadn't wiped them we wouldn't have to put up with all the other models thinking the Colonials must have found either an Earth Colony or Earth itself' the first Cavil said. 'I have to bite my tongue every time I hear another Two talking about prophecy and the Thirteenth Tribe.'

'I hear you brother' another Number One agreed. 'That still leaves us with the mystery of who the hell they actually _are_though' he reminded the others.

'I'm inclined to think they must be the descendants of another group that set out from Kobol' the third Cavil theorised. 'The records were certainly patchy, even we're forced to rely on millennia-old human religious texts for a clue on what really happened back then' he noted.

'They might even call their world Earth like the real Thirteenth did' the One to his right agreed. 'I wonder how advanced they are?'

'Given their lasers, particle beams, and what we assume from scans is fusion-based power generation I'd say _very_advanced' another Cavil replied.

'Yes but remember that their fighters were being carried by _Galactica_. We haven't seen any jump-capable ships of their own' the first Cavil pointed out. 'We know the genuine Thirteenth had not re-invented the jump-drive their ancestors used to ferry them to Earth from Kobol, and they instead relied on sub-light engines for interstellar travel, so perhaps that is also true of the fake Thirteenth?' he suggested. 'They mentioned having colonies of their own but that doesn't necessarily mean they have FTL travel.'

'Their oversized fighters had very good performance in acceleration, if not manoeuvrability, with extremely high thrust for a sustained duration' the second Cavil observed. 'A civilisation that had to travel between the stars at relativistic sub-light speeds likely would develop excellent engines, especially if they benefited from the advantages of brute-force thermonuclear rocketry.'

'That certainly makes sense' the fourth Cavil agreed. 'To build those fighters and invent those weapons they must be an advanced society, with both a large population and a sizeable industrial base, but if they had FTL then we should certainly have expected _Galactica_to be escorted by their jump-capable warships' he said, 'or at least have a few of their transports along to help haul off the scraps of the decaying carcass of the Twelve Colonies.'

'The teams that we sent down to try and determine what was recovered did indicate that a production line for Raptor FTL's was taken and we also know that they stripped the FTL's from the hulks of battlestars' the third Cavil added. 'I'd take that as backing the theory.'

'So while _Pegasus_ and the rest of the civilian fleet remain with their new friends, the _Galactica_and some transports head back to Cyrannus to gain the means for the supposed "Earthers" to make jump-drives' the First Cavil reasoned. 'They could hand over the plans easily enough but building FTL's fast would be easier with the right equipment and tooling.'

'You realise this means we need to strike hard and fast, gather our forces and destroy these new humans before they can develop the infrastructure needed to build FTL warships armed with their admittedly fearsome Directed-Energy-Weapons' the fourth Cavil said. 'We've been holding back until now, recalling the fleets and taking a defensive posture, but we need to be proactive.'

'On the plus side if they rely on sub-light engines then they can't have too many Colonies' the first Cavil said brightly. 'This "Star League" they talked of can't be more than a handful of systems spread over a tiny area of space' he decided.

'Remember brothers, the others are still under the sway of Caprica Six and Boomer Eight' the third Cavil reminded them. 'Even after losing three basestars they argued that we both fired first and launched nuclear weaponry first making us culpable' he said. 'We might not be able to get agreement to simply exterminate these new humans, we might have to conquer them... for their own good of course' he said with a smirk. 'If they resist we could always reduce their population to a more manageable level.'

'I'd prefer them under the ground not under our boot but regardless of whether we're going to be decisive or wishy-washy we still need to beat these "Earthers" down before the Colonials can gift them proper interstellar capability' the first Cavil said forcefully.

'We can at least rely on the support of the Raiders, and the Centurions for that matter' the second Cavil suggested. 'They can't vote but they still have an influence on our society and they didn't like getting slaughtered like they were on and over Aquaria. They're angry and after human blood' he said.

'When it's the KEW-fodder making more sense than the supposedly smarter cylon models you've got to wonder where it all went wrong?' the third Cavil asked rhetorically, rolling his eyes.

'Talking of the Centurions if we're not going to deal with these new humans the easy way with nuclear strikes from orbit we might have to face heavy resistance on the surface of their worlds' the fourth Cavil said. 'From what we saw of their capabilities in that arena we could be looking at losses we've not faced since the First War forty years past' he stated.

The first Cavil smiled. 'It was precisely our intended counter to that which made me comment that the Fours would be a welcome addition to our cabal' he said. 'A couple of them are already working on a design for a Centurion/Raider hybrid intended to match the large military machines of the enemy' the cylon continued. 'Our initial consideration was the required power but even lacking their fusion powerplants a fast-fission reactor that uses molten lead and bismuth as the coolant should provide plenty of output in a reactor compact enough to meet our purposes.'

'You're suggesting some sort of oversized Centurion with which to fight these pseudo Earthers on their own terms?' the third Cavil queried.

'Six or seven metres in height, smaller than theirs but we can produce them in great numbers once we switch a normal Raider production line over to them' the first Cavil confirmed. 'As well as mounting 30mm KEW's on the arms a missile rack on each shoulder firing our standard Raider missiles should provide sufficient firepower.'

'Intriguing idea' the second Cavil said appreciatively. 'Has anyone thought of a name yet for these new additions to the family?' he asked.

The first Cavil nodded. 'Praetorians' he replied.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_Captain Aaron Kelly was the LSO (Landing Signal Officer) on Galactica, he was a tiny bit extreme in his views (he's the man that kept trying to assassinate Gaius Baltar's lawyers). The Ares Conventionswere agreed in 2412 and amongst other things restricted use of nuclear weapons and prohibited Biological and Chemical ones. Wallace Gray was Roslin's first and preferred choice for Vice-President before she brought Baltar along to cash in on his popularity. He was the man that got the fleet functioning properly as an economy and sorted out resource distribution so I could see Roslin wanting him back to help sort out the problems faced by the new City-State. The government of New Circe provided a great deal of charity at first but after a while they would want to be paid for what they're giving the Colonials, this has been done by selling tech and by the Colonial City-State borrowing money to buy goods. They would need a proper trade relationship to keep the economy going with a sensible rate of exchange. Battletech Neurohelmets might be a way to detect cylons given we know they're wired differently than humans having Silica Pathways in their brains. Little Battletech Universe in-joke in the last paragraph of the first section there... I'm sorry, as ever I couldn't help it._

_And Cally gets knocked-up on schedule... A "Circle of Equals" is where a fight between members of a Clan takes place, you can fight those of different ranks, you are all equal there (in principle if not in skill, an infantry officer would typically be taller and more highly trained in hand-to-hand fighting than a mechwarrior for example). Agromechs are used for farming in the BT universe, at least on reasonably developed worlds, they're really just multi-purpose tractors/combine harvesters etc. We see Galactica supplying water to smaller ships in the show, getting that close is of course potentially hazardous to both vessels if miscalculated._

_The Colony was the Cylon capital, as much as they had one. It was a massive construction built around the ship the "Final Five" arrived in forty years ago. Only the Number One, or "Cavil", Cylons knew the identity of them, or indeed quite a lot of the truth. They had the other model cylons memories wiped and were really behind just about everything when you got right down to it. Given that the Final Five travelled from "Earth" to the Cyrannus system in a sub-light ship it's not really that much of a leap for the Cavil's here to think that these new humans, who they alone know are not the real Thirteenth Tribe, might be an Interstellar civilisation that lacks FTL. Given that Galactica was collecting jump-drives and tooling to make them, plus the lack of non Colonial jumpships in the fleet that returned to Cyrannus, it's not an unreasonable theory for the Cylons to come up with to be honest. They wouldn't have a clue that another jump-drive system like the Kearny-Fuchida exists. Hope people like my name for the Cylon counter to battlemechs. The Praetorian is basically a scaled-up Centurion mounting Raider calibre armament and powered by a Lead Cooled Fast Reactor. Using liquid metal as the coolant allows you to run a reactor much hotter with more output, some designs use molten sodium instead but they would explode on contact with air if ruptured (bad news if you're being shot at). The molten lead also means the coolant itself acts as much of the reactors required radiation shielding, making it even more compact! Without fusion powerplants to run their mechs I've had the cylons use fission instead, they can take more radiation than humans after all and without lasers and PPC's to power they need less electrical generation anyway._


	13. Chapter 12

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_You want my view of the future purpose of the SLDF? Okay, it'll be to keep the Successor States in, the Cylons out and the Clanners down."_

**Admiral Franks, SLDF Chief of Staff – 3047CE**

* * *

******Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Wing Commander Sarah-Louise Defoe ignored the stares directed her way by some of the civilian refugees as she headed down towards the briefing room, they were between jumps with a decent-sized CAP out defending the fleet, ten Vipers and six Kirghiz. As she went her uniform itself would have made it obvious she was one of the "Thirteenth" but she was also one point nine metres in height in her bare feet, somewhat more so in her boots. This was about average for a woman in the regular military, at least for one not in the infantry for whom you could add another ten centimetres, but with her build it certainly made her imposing. She now wore her hair tied-up in a long ponytail that ran down her back, having let it grow out almost half-way to her waist now, shorter might have been more practical but it didn't get in the way of her neurohelmet and although washing and combing it was starting to become a pain she thought her husband would like it.

Her spouse was a civil engineer and he was probably helping build things for the Colonials back on New Circe right now she reasoned, looking down at her wedding ring for a moment. It had been so many weeks since she had seen him and she missed him badly. Before this mission came up they had been considering having children, something she had been putting off for a while since even with the Iron Wombs it would likely stymie the progression of her military career, but now she was sure it was time for them to do their part for the Clan. She might even consider normal pregnancy for maybe her second or third although it did look pretty uncomfortable from what she could tell.

Tragically there were very few children amongst the survivors they had rescued from the Twelve Colonies but a little girl of perhaps seven or eight watched her intently as she walked past and began following her. Defoe pretended to ignore her for a while but then picked up the pace seeing if the kid would try and keep up which she did, the sound of her feet hitting the deck at double time as she attempted to match the Wing Commanders speed with much shorter legs causing Defoe to smile to herself as she rounded the next corner just ahead of the child. She stopped, span around and dropped to one knee so as the girl turned the corner a couple of steps behind they were now face-to-face at eye-level. 'Fighter pilots don't like people tailing their six' she told the surprised little girl in English, not that the child understood a word causing Defoe to resort to her limited Caprican instead. 'Recon mission failed, break off pursuit, return to base' she said in the girls own language.

The girl stared at her wide-eyed and babbled something really fast which Defoe at best picked up one word in ten from and none of the meaning. 'Can anyone translate?' she asked loudly in English.

'She wants to know why we're all so tall' someone replied. Looking over Defoe recognised one of the academics from the university, they were often to be found wandering the ship talking to people, taking notes and answering questions from those curious about where they were going and what New Circe was like.

'Tell her it's because the Thirteenth Tribe stretch their children on racks' Defoe requested.

The academic laughed. 'Okay' he agreed and translated. The girl looked doubtfully at the academic then back to Defoe saying something else. 'She doesn't believe it' he told Defoe.

'Fine, then tell her it's because we eat all our vegetables' Defoe replied.

The little girl listened to the translation into Caprican then stuck her tongue out in distaste, replying via the man from the Thirteenth in strange civilian clothes that spoke both languages. 'She says it's not worth it, and she says you probably bang your head on a lot of doorways' he told Defoe.

Defoe laughed, it was true as well. If it wasn't for them wearing their helmets almost all the time now the Infantry from the 331st based on _Galactica_in particular would have probably all knocked themselves senseless by now. 'If that's all she wanted to know is she going to stop following me now?' she asked.

The girl listened to the translation then replied. 'She wants to know if the Thirteenth are going to kill all the Cylons' the academic said.

The Wing Commander frowned, a perhaps understandable belief had quickly spread through the civilians that the Thirteenth, a race of honest-to-gods genetically-engineered super-soldiers with an arsenal of incredible weapons, would wipe out the entire Cylon race in revenge for the deaths of so many of their human brothers and sisters. 'Tell her we'll kill all the Cylons that come to hurt her' she replied carefully. The Lord Protector and Parliament would never countenance genocide even if the means presented itself unless it proved absolutely necessary.

After that was turned into Caprican the girl nodded then gave Defoe a hug which the surprised officer awkwardly returned before the child turned and ran off.

'Aww that's so cute boss, can I get a hug too?' someone asked loudly.

'What's the matter Gibson, didn't get enough attention as a child?' Defoe retorted, standing up.

The Flight-Lieutenant now stood nearby laughed. 'No Ma'am' he replied.

'Well I don't love you either' Defoe told him flatly. 'Shouldn't you be trying to seduce some poor ignorant Colonial girl somewhere?' she asked sardonically.

'I'll be trying later but I'm not having any luck there yet' Gibson admitted. 'It's either my looks or my personality I guess' the fighter pilot continued. 'Could be both of course' he added.

'Well despite all your other faults I guess I can't add vanity to them' Defoe told him. He was a good pilot, well slightly above average at least, but Gibson's personality sometimes rubbed people up the wrong way. 'Since you're here I had a note from the ships LSO counter-signed by the CAG, would you _please_stop trying to set the record for the fastest landing approach before you get yourself killed or put a gigantic dent in the flight deck' she requested in a manner than made sure he knew it was actually an order.

'Killjoys' Gibson remarked bitterly, he had a hundred Colonial Cubits resting on a bet for that one. Given that the person with the current record was that very same CAG, Kara Thrace, he also suspected foul play. 'Okay boss since you asked nicely, and would have me on KP for the rest of the trip home if I didn't, I'll be good from now on' he said reluctantly. 'Oh I saw the photograph of Emily you from her personnel file that you put on the wall Wing Commander' he added. 'Thanks for that' he told her with sincerity.

Defoe sighed. 'I'm afraid it was the only picture of Lieutenant Lewenhaupt I could find' she said regretfully. It was far from flattering and did her no justice whatsoever.

'The only one we had in the squadron was all of us together and it didn't seem fitting' Gibson replied. 'Of course it didn't make her look like a desperate criminal though' he added, with a smile, fortunately he knew Emily had enough of a sense of humour to not mind him saying so.

'_Everyone's_photograph from their personnel file makes them look like an unsavoury character' Defoe noted. 'I think they use a special lens' she theorised.

'Damn long way to be from home when you die' Gibson observed sadly, Emily Lewenhaupt had been the only Kirghiz pilot lost over Aquaria, her cockpit canopy shattered by several bursts of Raider KEW's. They had recovered the airframe and given her a military funeral along with the dead Colonials, the Star-League flag draped over her coffin making it stand out amongst the others.

'I doubt when I tell her family she died they'd have felt any better if had happened a few hundred light-years closer to home' Defoe replied. 'I know you were closer to Lewenhaupt than the others were' she commiserated.

'We were in the same Sibling Company as kids' Gibson replied. 'Later went to flight-school together, she even dated my older brother for a while before she realised that _none_of the men in my family are worthwhile' he joked. 'She always wanted to make ace and at least she managed that a few times over, if you reckon that skeet really count as proper kills anyway' he said.

'If they can kill _you_too then they're proper kills in my book Flight-Lieutenant' Defoe replied evenly, 'and I'll make damn sure that everyone back home accepts that too' she stated with conviction. The Kirghiz fighters had destroyed hundreds of Cylon Raiders between them, Emily Lewenhaupt would qualify for a posthumous medal for her share and if her genetic material was used to make another future member of the Clan then their Codex, a personal record of their lineage, would show that they were descended from a decorated hero of the Wolverines. It was a measure of immortality at least, generations from now her name would still be read by her genetic descendents when they learned where they came from.

'Thank you Ma'am' Gibson responded sincerely, in his own book Defoe was a good officer continued to prove she was worthy of respect. 'Got to go, I'm supposed to be meeting a Raptor pilot for lunch' he said, checking his watch.

'She blind or insane?' Defoe queried.

'Well they're _all_half-blind and at least a little strange' Gibson replied. 'I guess at least one of those things is working for me' he reasoned.

'Just remember my new standing order Flight-Lieutenant, only _Army_Officers are stupid enough to knock up Colonials so they have to marry them' Defoe ordered. 'I've been ripping on Colonel McEvedy something fierce for days and woe betide the man under my command who gives him any grounds for comeback' she said seriously, spearing Gibson with a look. As the ranking Naval Officer Commander Thorpe had been joining in on that sport too, it was always good clean fun yanking the chain of the other services and McEvedy's lineage earned him no exemptions.

'Frankly Ma'am, so far with me you're perfectly safe on that score' Gibson admitted. 'I just haven't had the opportunity to even _attempt_to disobey that order' he said sadly. 'But I live in hope that might change soon' he added optimistically.

'Glad to hear it, but a sexually frustrated fighter-pilot is an _aggressive_ fighter-pilot' Defoe declared. For herself she certainly had plans to jump her husband the moment she got home, not that she was going to tell the Flight-Lieutenant that. 'Is _that_the reason you've been trying to get yourself killed crashing into the deck at high speed then?' she wondered.

'No, I just need the money' Gibson told her. 'Prices at the bar shot up ever since we rescued all those civilians' he complained. 'They kept giving them free beer until the stocks ran down and then market-forces kicked in' he moaned then checked his watch again. 'Gotta run Boss' he said urgently.

'Don't just leave the girl sitting there, move your ass' Defoe told him.

'Thanks Ma'am' the Flight-Lieutenant replied, running off at high speed. Defoe watched him reach the first open hatch and being too tall and moving too fast to stop he smacked his head on the top of the frame with a sickening crack that caused the Wing-Commander to grimace and flinch from just watching it happen. He swore vociferously in two languages then clutching his head kept going.

'Much longer on this tub and we'll all be too brain-damaged from the alcohol and the blows to the skull to fly missions any more' Defoe muttered to herself, 'the damned neurohelmets won't interface properly' she decided.

* * *

**Colonial City-State – New Circe – 3045CE**

Kaarlo Hennessy had been observing the lawyer cross-examine the witnesses for a few days now, telling little stories as he went, leading the jury along and steering them in the direction he wanted and although Hennessy knew hardly anything of Colonial Law, or very much relevant Star League law either for that matter, he was starting to reach the conclusion that Romo Lampkin could have got Stefan Amaris off with a warning.

Calling Gaius Baltar, the scientist and former Vice-President to testify had clearly surprised a lot of people but although he had given his testimony in an initially detached and unemotional manner it was obvious that once he got going the man had been appalled by the treatment handed out to the Cylon prisoner, describing her as being left traumatised almost to the point of catatonia. He then went on to explain how the Cylons were both fully sentient and sapient enough to suffer from the same psychological complaints as a human would in the same circumstances, citing several relevant texts by respected authors on the subject of AI's, and even admitted he had felt sorry for her.

Lampkin had subpoenaed the video records of the interrogation of the defendant, the Number Six Cylon known as Gina Inviere, and despite the objection of the prosecutor Didi Cassidy the court had given leave for these to be shown to the jury. Although he had half-expected the records to be "lost" the lawyer was surprised that Commander Lee Adama had delivered them to the court personally, perhaps not fully trusting his own crew, and stood by as they were shown.

The beatings had happened first, then more creative means of physical and psychological torture and when the repeated gang-rapes intended to break her were shown the defendant had started to shake and pulled herself into a ball on her chair. At this point Lampkin looked around at the expressions on the faces of both the jury and the majority of the people in the gallery and stopped the tapes. 'Evidence gained by torture is inadmissible in court according to both the Articles of Colonisation and the laws of each and every one of the Twelve Colonies' he said. 'We do this for a good reason and it's_not_ just because of a moral imperative that says it's wrong' the lawyer continued, 'if _you_ were subjected to treatment like that you'd eventually say _anything_ to get them to stop' he told the jury. 'The defendant was beaten, brutalised, sexually assaulted, starved and kept awake for days on end' he said. 'Now perhaps some people think she deserved it, her kind killed billions of ours in a nuclear holocaust after all, but whether you think that personally or not can you really tell yourself honestly that we can put any credence on anything she might have told the men who were doing that to her?' he asked the jury rhetorically before turning to Didi Cassidy. 'Going to try and argue that sickening display _wasn't_a violation of the Articles?' he asked the prosecutor knowingly with just the hint of a smirk on his face.

Lampkin had his own suspicions and theories regarding Baltar and Gina. At first he had wondered if the man might actually be a cylon himself but since he was working on a top-secret military project he had been almost the first Colonial to be screened by the new Cylon Detector technology, and had been positively identified as human, so that theory had been replaced by another. Lampkin considered himself a skilled observer of human nature and Baltar clearly liked the ladies, he also seemed like he _had_ been genuinely appalled by what had been done to the Cylon and acted decidedly shifty when asked off the record by Lampkin about the circumstances of her escape from custody on _Pegasus_. Although he had no proof the lawyer was convinced that Baltar had aided her escape, out of either pity or misplaced chivalry, and probably hadn't counted on her killing Admiral Cain immediately afterwards.

The murder of Helena Cain was one charge that Lampkin was fairly confident he could beat. Temporary insanity certainly shouldn't be hard to prove, the cylon still had evident PTSD for one thing, and when he revealed in court that Cain and the Toaster had actually been lovers it wouldn't just cause a media sensation it would also enable him to argue a crime of passion too. He could also press the idea that Cain had ordered her former lover to be abused not just for information but as revenge for perceived betrayal and that was all great potential ammunition for the defence. Gina could have easily murdered Cain on many previous occasions so it would be hard for the prosecution to make a convincing case that the Cylon was an assassin with the Admiral as her target, it all seemed more likely it was just a personal thing. The cylon had been quite justifiably driven to a homicidal rage by her treatment and had shot Cain dead as an act of vengeance not an act of war, women who had been repeatedly beaten by their husbands killing them later on when they were not actually under violent attack was hardly unheard of and there was plenty of precedent Lampkin could twist into aiding his defence.

When and if Admiral Adama returned then Lampkin would be able to throw his best hand into the game of legal Triad going on. If he admitted his involvement with the incursion of the Colonial Fleet over the armistice line into Cylon territory then that would really put Lance among the pigeons, Lampkin thought to himself. As an individual Gina had only personally acted against military targets and if it could be shown that it wasn't the Cylons that first broke the armistice conditions laid down by the Cimtar Peace Accord then he might frak up the entire proceedings enough to get her off, or at least get her detained as a Prisoner of War rather than as a "Dead Toaster Walking" on Death Row. He wasn't entirely sure how he would either act or feel if he managed the impossible and got a cylon acquitted in a Colonial Court but he was pleased it might at least be _possible_since it meant that the system wasn't yet just a rubber stamp for the government and the military.

The trial was expected to last weeks, the examination and cross-examination of the defendant herself several days in itself, but so far it was still the media sensation for both the Colonial Press and journalists from the other side of the border. As Hennessy walked back out of court when it was dismissed for the day he was collared by a woman he recognised as a reporter, part of the so-called "Colonial Gang" of well-respected local journalists that had a current-events show on the wireless. 'Kaarlo Hennessy?' she queried.

'Yes' he confirmed, less than pleased at having the reporter put a microphone under his nose and another munchkin aim a video camera at him.

'Playa Palacios, City-State Wireless News Service' the reporter introduced herself and advertised her station. 'I believe you're the man that smuggled the Cylon defendant off the Fleet?' she asked.

'She claimed asylum, which was later rejected by my government who then placed her in detention until the Colonial Government requested her extradition' Hennessy replied. 'I'm just a bureaucrat with the New Circe Ministry of Justice' he told her and everyone watching.

'I'm sure our viewers might be interested to hear that you also visited the Cylon whilst in Star League military detention and that you supplied the dress she was wearing in court' the reporter said.

'Would they? Perhaps they need lives' Hennessy suggested.

Palacios decided to persist despite the sarcasm. 'Why did you do that?' she asked.

'I visited her because no one else was going to and I felt sorry for her' Hennessy replied, 'it's called "empathy" and it's in the new Caprican to English dictionary everyone has a copy of if they need to look it up' he continued sardonically. 'As for the dress, if the Colonial Government hadn't seen fit to put her in an orange jumpsuit, rather than an outfit that _didn't_scream "convict me", my wife wouldn't have offered me one of hers to give to the defendant' he said.

Definitely not a diplomat Palacios thought to herself. 'Can I ask your opinion on the videos shown of the interrogation of the prisoner?' she asked him.

'Utter barbarism, as might be expected from a disgraced ship and crew' Hennessy replied evenly. 'Under SLDF regulations in time of war the men on that video would be put up against a wall and shot' he stated coldly.

'Do you think that opinion is widely held over the border?' the reporter queried.

'I hope so' Hennessy replied. 'You don't fight monsters by becoming them' he said.

'So you _do_think the Cylons are monsters?' Palacios asked.

'As a group the attempted genocide of the Colonials that led to the deaths of billions of civilians fits _my_ definition of a monstrous and inexcusable act pretty much' Hennessy replied. 'If the commanding officer of the _Pegasus_had simply declared the cylon an enemy spy and probable saboteur, then threw her out of an airlock, that would have been perfectly okay by me in the circumstances' he said honestly.

'Frakking cylon bitch got everything she deserved and they should do it again if you ask me' a Colonial who had been in the gallery said loudly from behind Hennessy, interrupting the interview. 'If they want volunteers I'll do it myself' he added with a laugh.

Kaarlo Hennessy sighed. 'You'll have to excuse me for a second' he told Palacios apologetically before turning around. 'Did you say that?' he asked the man behind him placidly.

'Yeah' the man confirmed, he was reasonably tall for a Colonial, not much shorter than Hennessy, and well-built. Probably a manual labourer or an off-duty marine in civilian clothing perhaps?

Hennessy threw a neat right-cross which hit the man on the jaw, breaking it and sending him to the ground unconscious. With everyone now deathly quiet and staring at him the bureaucrat turned back to the camera whilst casually inspecting his knuckles. 'Why bother with due process, civil rights are overrated aren't they?' he asked rhetorically, looking into the camera. 'Forget about civilised behaviour and all that crap, just ignore the rules and take the law into your own hands' he continued, holding up his fist. 'Vigilante justice is just frakking great isn't it?' he added wryly.

Thus it was that Kaarlo Hennessy became the first New Circe citizen to be thrown into a cell in the Colonial City State, facing an assault charge. The lawyer he asked for, Romo Lampkin, got him off with a warning though.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

'I swear, I walked into the canteen yesterday and just for a second I thought it was a guy with a pregnant ventriloquist's dummy on his knee but then I realised it was only Cale and his girlfriend' the other mechwarrior joked, provoking laughter from everyone around the table but the aforementioned Geoff Cale.

'Frak you Dave' Cale told the other Wolverine with a scowl, earning a grin in response.

'Damn Cale, you're even starting to sound like them' a First Lieutenant with the SLDF Infantry observed, reaching for his beer. 'She'll have you worshipping Zeus and keeping a little statue of Ares in your mech before the year's out. Right guys, query affirmative?'

'Affirmative' the rest of the SLDF officers chorused. As well as the Army personnel a few pilots had tagged along to make up the numbers, it was a stag night after all.

'Frak the lot of you' Cale told them, taking a swig from his own bottle. 'You're only jealous' he declared after gulping it down.

'Got to admit it was a smooth move knocking her up so she couldn't get away before she got a chance to know the real you mech-boy' a Kirghiz pilot interjected, before looking around at the others. 'She's too cute for the likes of him' he opined.

'Kiss my ass fly-boy' Cale responded. 'Who invited _him_anyway?' he wanted to know.

'Gibson there scored us two bottles of Ambrosia' a Tank Commander explained.

'Oh, okay' Cale conceded. 'Where is it?' he asked, looking under the table expectantly. That stuff was well named even if it did give you a hangover and a half the next day.

'Later Geoff, you need to be sober enough to enjoy the entertainment' the infantry officer who had made the comment about Zeus before replied with a wink.

'This had better not be some ground-pounder, with more muscle on her than I've got, stripping' another of the pilots said disparagingly.

'I couldn't get any volunteers and the Colonel wasn't about to let me order one to do it' the infantry officer said regretfully. 'So she's alright with the wedding arrangements now?' he asked the groom.

Cale nodded. 'Naval ceremony, ship's CO presiding' he replied. 'No Priest at the wedding itself but we get the union blessed by one afterwards' he said. 'When we get home Cally has agreed to a Lutheran Blessing too which should stop my parents going _too_nuts' he said.

'Could have been worse you know' Flight-Lieutenant Gibson commented. 'If we'd met leftover Aztecs there could have been a human sacrifice involved' he theorised. 'We might have had to capture a Cylon skinjob and cut its beating heart out of its chest or some shit like that' he said.

'What's an Aztec?' another pilot queried.

'You're an ignorant bastard Mooreland' Gibson told his fellow flyer disparagingly. 'Find one of those historians and ask them' he advised. 'We need more beer over here' he said loudly. They had a couple of crate's worth stowed behind the bar waiting to be brought over.

'That might have gotten the attention of the barman if you'd said it in Caprican' Cale told him with a smirk.

Gibson smirked back and repeated it in Caprican which had Cale and the others looking at him in surprise. 'When the hell did you learn to speak that?' Mooreland asked.

'Don't look too impressed, I can order a drink, understand a few phrases related to flying and I've rehearsed a few chat-up lines but I'm sure as hell not fluent' Gibson admitted.

'What chat-up lines?' the infantry officer asked.

Gibson said something else in Caprican which caused Cale to burst out laughing. Eventually he stopped long enough to translate. 'He said "Elysium must be missing an angel because you're standing next to me", that's their heaven if you didn't know' he explained with a grin.

The others all groaned. 'That doesn't actually work does it?' Mooreland asked.

'No' Gibson replied sadly. 'I tried it on a hot girl from Picon and she looked at me and replied that a village must be missing its idiot' he said glumly, provoking howls of laughter as the barman brought over more beers to their table.

Although the Colonials had very similar traditions to the majority of the Thirteenth in that it was very much the done thing for both the future bride and groom to go out the night before the wedding, drink themselves into stupefaction, do things in public that would embarrass a crazed egotist with no sense of shame and then spend the time before they crashed wondering what the hell they had been thinking when they got engaged, Cally was unable to properly enjoy a couple of these. Although he was uncommitted on the effects of second-hand smoke on the foetus Doctor Cottle very much agreed that drinking during pregnancy was bad news so Cally was drinking fruit juice while her friends and numerous female hangers-on downed shots at her Hen Night being held in Galactica's other improvised bar.

'So you'll be getting a C-Section right?' Seelix asked her, pointing at her bump which was now seeming to get bigger every day.

'Have you seen the _size_ of that guy' Marcie asked rhetorically, already slurring her words slightly 'if everything is to scale I'm surprised he got _in_, there's no way what he left in there is going to get out the same way' she declared, breaking out into laughter so hard tears were rolling down her cheeks whilst Cally's own blushed bright red.

'I'm hoping for a normal delivery' Cally managed to reply when the others had stopped laughing along with Marcie.

'Ouch' Seelix responded, Cally still had a good few weeks to go.

Cally smiled. 'I'm counting on the drugs' she said.

'If you're going through all this just to get high you should have come to me first Specialist' someone else interrupted.

'Hey Sir' Cally greeted Starbuck.

'None of that "Sir" shit tonight Cally' Starbuck replied, 'I managed to find a guy and talk him into it' she told Seelix , obviously highly pleased with herself.

'We were hoping for Sam Anders' Seelix replied with a grin as she watched a Corporal in SLDF uniform sheepishly follow Starbuck towards them.

'The only girl that ever gets _that_ show is _me_' Starbuck replied smugly. 'Okay someone put on some music' she yelled out. 'Get to it muscles' she told the Corporal then added some sign language to let him know he was on.

'How the hell did you talk him into it if he doesn't understand anything you say?' Seelix wanted to know.

'I borrowed a certain Naval Commander and embarrassed the crap out of him when I told him what I needed translating to a platoon of bored looking Wolvie Infantry that needed money for beer' Starbuck explained as the corporal started to move in time to the music and tried not to think what he was doing in front of what was soon a dozen howling women. Facing hundreds of Cylon Centurions on Aquaria wasn't anywhere near this intimidating he thought to himself as he began to strip rhythmically to the music, hoping the promised beer money would be forthcoming and maybe one of these screeching colonial harpies would want to take him back to their place. If he got the beer _and_got laid out of this it would limit the extent of the mockery he would later face from the rest of his unit.

Admiral Adama didn't exactly get to officiate too many marriages. It was still within the Colonial Fleet regulations that he _could_, a tradition passed down from the days when ship's captains sailed wooden vessels across the oceans of Caprica, like the one he had a model of in his quarters, but it certainly wasn't something he was all that familiar with. In fact by the next day he had spent inordinately more time practicing what he had to say that he had ever done for any speech he had ever made to the crew, or indeed his speech at Saul Tigh's Wedding Reception, and he suspected that he was barely less nervous that either the bride or groom as they faced him on the port hanger deck which had been cleared as much as possible with Vipers, Raptors and Kirghiz fighters crammed into the starboard hanger deck and packed practically nose-to-nose on the landing bays.

Cale tried to control his breathing and calm down, the woman stood next to him looked beautiful whereas he suspected that despite a long shower, a half-litre of strong coffee and some pep-pills from a medic he still looked like hell. Waking up in engineering next to the FTL hadn't helped his condition, the drone from the jump-drive, which was being kept spun-up in case of cylon attack, had left him with a splitting headache and a continuous hum in his ear that was yet to go away, and he was going to kill those Kirghiz pilots he thought were responsible for leaving him there in nothing but his light mechwarrior shorts and his boots. Oh well at least the Admiral looked like he knew what he was doing, Cale thought to himself, Adama looked as professional and collected as ever.

Most of the words were different than a marriage would be on New Circe, and not just because they were being said in Caprican, as the two societies had rather different conceptions of what marriage was, at least in the abstract anyway if not so much the reality. The Colonial view on marriage was perhaps a little less weighed on the man being the dominant partner than it still was to a degree for most groups that originally came from Earth. Even the non-religious carry the cultural baggage of their civilisation and despite over a millennium of pressure towards equal rights for women the Thirteenth with their more patriarchal monotheistic beliefs still didn't have quite the same attitudes and conceptions as the polytheistic Colonials. To quote the academic Nils Sundquist, when there are goddesses to fear and worship too, not just a single deity that is typically perceived as male, you just don't see the universe in quite the same way. Even atheists on New Circe were basically "Cultural Christians" while conversely atheistic Colonials were "Cultural Hellenic Polytheists" even if they thought the Lords of Kobol were a myth.

Geoff Cale couldn't honestly say he remembered much of the ceremony, he was too nervous for that even discounting the temporary mild hearing loss and the fading hangover, but he remembered the usual procedure of having Cally reach up and pull him down to her level to kiss at the end, he remembered walking out under an honour guard of swords and he remembered glaring at his Best Man, or rather the officer acting in the equivalent role for the ceremony, when the son-of-a-bitch pretended to have misplaced the rings.

Admiral Adama broke into one of the crates of vintage Ambrosia intended for the President when he toasted them at the Reception later on, he figured that Roslin wouldn't be too mad at him given the circumstances. Cale turned nearly the same shade of green as the drink when he caught a whiff of it but forced himself to swallow it because he was worried it would jinx the whole thing otherwise.

It's been said that the worse thing about being tee-total is waking up feeling the best you're going to feel all day. For Wolverine mechwarrior Geoff Cale his day just got better and better as first his head cleared then his hangover disappeared, he married the girl he loved, his hearing came back and before his wedding night crowned it all he found Flight-Lieutenant Alan Gibson unconscious next to half a bottle of whiskey and managed to get Chief Tyrol and a few other beered-up volunteers to drag him away and deposit him in one of the more pungent areas of the ship's sewage-recycling system as their wedding gift.

Geoffrey and Calandra Cale were less than a week into their married lives when the Cylon Fleet caught up to them, _Galactica_ now having roughly a hundred and fifty Light-Years left to go of its return journey to New Circe. Well at least they got a few days of uninterrupted honeymoon anyway.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_That Gina Inviere and Helena Cain were lovers comes from Razor. Along with the armistice line violation of the Cimtar Peace Accords and all the legal issues thrown up by the way the cylon prisoner was treated on Pegasus it should all give a good lawyer plenty to work with at least. __After checking Baltar and the other Colonials working on defence projects they're now screening the military personnel incidentally. With thousands to check it would take a while especially given the number of possible false readings they might encounter.__Playa Palacios was a journalist that featured in the show a few times. She was also one of the truly vast number of women Baltar got to have sex with at one time or another... why do good things happen to bad people?_ _I've had that line about Romo Lampkin getting Stefan Amaris off with a warning in my head for ages._


	14. Chapter 13

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_There are very few problems that cannot ultimately be resolved by either the threat or use of a battery of Heavy Naval PPC's. This may seem crude to some but it's how the Star League did it, that's how New Circe does it, and it's worked out pretty well for us so far." _

**Captain Martin Ferry – SLDF Navy**

* * *

******Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

DRADIS picked up the contact moments after the pair of Raiders appeared, both the CIC and the CAP were on-the-ball and unfortunately for the Raiders concerned they had jumped in within LRPPC range because before they could jump back out they were neatly speared by particle beams and were downloading to new organic hardware in the nearest Resurrection Ship less than a minute after they located _Galactica_.

Fortunately for the fleet however they were due to jump out within half an hour anyway and were already slowly spinning up their FTL's after several hours of regular maintenance, inspection and downtime. An engineering crew from the battlestar found itself stuck on the _Scorpia Traveller_ when Admiral Adama ordered a jump as soon as possible, they had been there fixing the CO2 Scubbers, but for the most part everyone was where they ideally needed to be when forty more Raiders jumped in and _Galactica_found itself in the middle of another battle.

It would take at least ten more minutes to spin up the FTL's on the civilian transports so the ready fighters were launched to support the CAP as _Galactica_added its own guns to the efforts being made to keep the Raiders away from the civilian ships. After a dozen more Raiders were destroyed the rest began to accelerate off out of range, still taking losses as they did so, and a few Viper and Kirghiz pilots requested permission to pursue but it was denied.

With six minutes left to go Adama started recalling the fighters a few at a time. Even with both the port and starboard flight pods he use they couldn't land anywhere near all those airframes at once so_Galactica_needed to space out the landings and clear the decks between group. The majority of the bulkier and less responsive, though also alas more heavily armed Kirghiz fighters had to be recalled first reducing the effectiveness of the CAP but for now the Cylons seemed content to get away so the Admiral gritted his teeth and started calling his most dangerous birds back to the nest.

Three minutes later five Basestars jumped in beyond the effective range of Galactica's guns and swarms of hundreds of Raiders began to descend upon them from all directions. 'Order any civilian ship that's ready to jump as soon as they're ready' Adama ordered.

'_Chrion_ is away' Gaeta replied immediately as the liner disappeared in a flash. '_Gemenon Traveller_, _Carina_ and _Scorpia Traveller_report about to jump' he continued. 'They've gone' he said.

Adama listened as Gaeta reported the other ships following suit including to his relief the ship made in the scrapyard on Scorpia. 'That just leaves _Thera Sita_' he said.

'Raiders in range' Gaeta reported.

'Open fire with all guns recall the rest of the birds and retract the flight-pods once they're aboard' Adama responded. 'Comms tell the Captain of the _Thera Sita_to pull his finger out of his ass and jump before he's up to his neck in Raiders with no fighter cover' he growled at Dualla.

The remaining fighters from the CAP came into land a lot faster than they would normally, emergency combat conditions meant they could get away with damaging the landing gear or putting a dent in the deck without getting too badly reamed by the CAG or the XO, but the last couple of Vipers, including that of the CAG Kara Thrace herself, only just got in before the flightpods were pulled in enabling the battlestar to jump.

Hundreds of point-defence guns spewing rounds in all directions _Galactica_put up a wall of fire until the bulk transport Thera Sita finally jumped freeing the battlestar to do so as well.

On arrival an instant later Gaeta checked the DRADIS and every civilian ship had made it. Adama ordered the FTL's to remain spun-up on all ships as other pilots made it to the hanger decks and a new CAP was already being launched as the aircraft stacked up in the landing bays were being brought down into the hanger below on the airlock elevators.

Colonel Tigh had been off-duty when the first Raiders appeared but he had arrived on the CIC, bleary-eyed, half-dressed with his jacket still undone shortly before the jump and was now trying to sort himself out as he talked to the Old Man. 'Why didn't those basestars start throwing missiles at us?' he asked. 'With that many of the frakking things emptying their silos in our direction we couldn't have put out enough weight-of-fire to knock them out and keep the Raiders off our ass at the same time' he noted.

Adama nodded, he looked perturbed by the course of events too. 'Your shoes are on the wrong feet' he told Tigh.

'Gods damn it' Tigh blasphemed and started swapping them. 'The frakking things are up to something mark my words' he opined.

'CAP is up, all ships report they are in working order' Gaeta announced.

'The Captain of the _Thera Sita_promises it won't happen again' Dualla added.

'We should threaten to leave him behind if it does' Tigh muttered as he finished putting his shoes on properly and started to button his jacket.

'Between the CAP and the battery we scored about sixty Raiders before we jumped out Sir' Gaeta reported. 'In case we're keeping count' he added.

'Three less squadron's worth of the things to worry about at least' Tigh said appreciatively.

'They'll be back' Adama reminded him, 'Raiders resurrect' he said.

'Yeah but they still have to build a new fighter to stick the things mind in' Tigh responded. 'I bet those sixty slit-eyed black bastards cost a lot more to replace than the ammo we used on them' he said with a satisfied smirk, 'all those fancy jump-drives blown to hell.'

'We're getting reports of some panic among the civilians' Dualla told Adama. 'I've got a request from one of the decks for Marines to be dispatched to restore order' she said.

'Gods-damned civilians' Tigh hissed.

'Order our people on the ground to try to calm them down but have a platoon of Marines ready to assist if necessary, I can't afford people causing trouble and distracting the crew right now' Adama ordered.

'Maybe we should ask the Wolvies to march a couple of their guy down there in Powered Armour, that should quiet them down' Tigh suggested semi-seriously.

'If you don't mind me expressing my opinion on that idea Sir it would just cause more panic' Dualla interjected as a warning.

'We'll save that as a last resort before I start having people thrown out of airlocks' Adama told Tigh.

The XO looked at the Admiral. 'You spent a lot of time with the President' he said. 'She must have rubbed off on you' he observed.

Exactly thirty-three minutes after _Galactica_arrived Raiders jumped in and everyone on the CIC except the Wolverine Technician that operated the new jump-computer either groaned or swore. 'Not this shit again?' Gaeta moaned as Adama ordered the fleet to jump.

They had only been a hundred and fifty light-years from New Circe when the pursuing cylons first appeared, a mere five jumps with the new computer doing the calculations, but Adama knew he couldn't lead them towards the planet so he ordered a sequence of shorter random jumps that would eventually lead them to the _other_destination they had planned for before setting out just in case they found themselves followed back from Cyrannus.

Thirty-three minutes after every jump the Cylons appeared again, it seemed likely that they were trying to wear down the human aircrews, keeping them near constantly awake for days with only short fitful naps at best between jumps. They couldn't face the fearsome Directed-Energy-Weapons of the Thirteenth so they had opted to act against the humans with their fingers on the triggers instead. All the firepower in the galaxy was next to useless if the man at the controls was an exhausted wreck.

Adama knew that the Cylons, even the "skinjobs" handled sleep deprivation much better than humans, during the last time this had happened it had been noted by several observers how much better Boomer seemed to be holding up than most and she hadn't even _known_ she was a Cylon back then. You couldn't sleep through a jump, it felt too inexplicably _wrong_, so even the non-military personnel wouldn't be able to gain any rest and the problems with the civilians would become serious if this continued any length of time he knew. Frayed tempers, fear and exhaustion were not a good mix.

Wing-Commander Defoe reported to Adama that her pilots would be able to operate at near-peak efficiency for perhaps a day and a half longer than the Colonials could manage without sleep but after that they would soon be following the same downward spiral, having to resort to the short-term solution of drugs to keep going after a few more days before they'd inevitably crash in just over a week.

Fortunately they didn't need to be awake that long. On the eighth consecutive jump _Galactica_as expected found it wasn't just its own fleet that was waiting when it arrived. They were now just over a hundred light-years anti-spinward of New Circe at the emergency pre-planned coordinates and there was a jumpship waiting for them.

The Magellan Class was technically a civilian vessel not a warship, although it was unusually heavily armed for a non-military craft, but it could only carry one dropship making it a bad choice for hauling cargo like most civilian jumpships were intended for. The Magellan was a specialised design, it was intended for very long voyages into the Deep Periphery and in fact was custom built for the Comstar Explorer Corps as a means for them to search far beyond the Inner Sphere looking for lost colonies or perhaps caches of long-abandoned Star-League equipment from before the fall.

This particular vessel had been successful in its maiden mission twenty-three years before, it had discovered a _very_impressive piece of Star League technology whilst scouting over a thousand light-years rimward of the Magistracy of Canopus, but its crew hadn't quite been expecting to find themselves under the guns of a pristine and fully crewed Black Lion Class Battlecruiser which was itself heading corewards escorting another jumpship carrying cargo dropships full of surplus Star League era weaponry for sale.

After deciding that their standing orders to commit suicide if facing capture by blowing up the ship sounded much better in theory back in the Sol System than they did in practice way out here the twenty Comstar crew had promptly surrendered and eventually found themselves on New Circe. Three of them eventually opened a restaurant together using the compensation money they were given as an apology for being press-ganged and the others reluctantly found work after drinking most of their own money away. The ship itself was added to the Star League Navy Rolls as the _SLS Pheidippides_ and was utilised as a long-range scout by Clan Wolverine instead being in fact the _third_of four Comstar Explorer Corps vessel to get impounded by the Star League in Exile, though the first two weren't nearly as special.

The crew of the _Pheidippides_ had now been waiting around in the middle of nowhere for eight weeks and even though they knew the arrival of _Galactica_ meant big trouble of the Cylon kind they weren't exactly crestfallen at the news when Colonel McEvedy contacted them via the battlestar's wireless, or as they called it, radio. At least they were going to get to go home now after day after day of utter boredom and after double-checking they had the right coordinates from McEvedy the Magellan Class vessel jumped out towards New Circe. Eleven minutes later the Cylons turned up again and _Galactica_and its entourage of civilian ships; now alas minus the ship from Scorpia as its FTL had given up after three such rapid jumps, its crew transferring to the battlestar by Raptor, jumped away in a different direction.

_Pheidippides_was unusual for a civilian jumpship in several ways. Not only did it mount extra firepower to defend itself in the back of beyond, it carried enough fuel and supplies to operate for nearly two years without re-supply and it mounted Lithium-Fusion batteries normally only found on warships that meant it could perform two jumps in quick succession. The first jump the Magellan Class performed took it thirty light-years, and then it triggered the second straight away taking it another thirty light-years closer to home but leaving itself in interstellar space in the middle of nowhere. It would now need to recharge its Kearny-Fuchida Drive for nearly a week before going anywhere else.

Still over forty light-years short of New Circe the _SLS Pheidippides_now got to employ the thing that made it truly special, a highly-advanced Hyperpulse Generator of Comstar design. The HPG could transmit a signal up to fifty-light years and although it wasn't simultaneous two-way communication the ability to send a faster-than-light message was a very useful trick.

_Galactica_ and its small fleet made another six jumps before they arrived at the second set of planned coordinates and this time when the five Cylon Basestars arrived thirty-three minutes later only the civilian ships jumped away. As the Raiders converged and the battlestar stood its ground the confident Number One leading the Cylon Fleet decided that Adama must be waiting for assistance, there must be a plan for the second battlestar, _Pegasus_, to meet him here. Between the two Colonial warships and the oversized fighters and advanced weapons of the supposed "Thirteenth" they probably _could_reasonably take on five basestars so it wasn't a bad move for the old Admiral.

'Right on time' the Cavil told the other cylons on the bridge of the flagship basestar when _Pegasus_ jumped in beside _Galactica_only five kilometres or so off, a lone Raider quietly jumping out when it did.

Less than a minute later seven more basestars jumped in. 'And now we get to chase down and destroy both of them' the Cavil declared smugly. 'After that we can play nice with the Colonial Civilians we find and bring the Thirteenth into line before they can develop their own FTL' he said, looking at Caprica Six who was stood across from him.

'We should give them the chance to surrender' Caprica Six stated. 'They must see that their situation is hopeless' she said. 'We don't want any more blood on our hands' she reminded the others. 'We want peaceful co-existance.'

'Which _will_require the humans to be disarmed' the Cavil responded as the twelve base-stars and thousands of Raiders converged on the two battlestars.

'We're going to give them the option to _lay down_their arms first' Caprica Six insisted. 'Get me Admiral Adama on the wireless' she said.

The ships hybrid established a wireless connection with _Galactica_immediately on the Colonial Military Channel. 'Admiral Adama this is the Cylon Fleet' Caprica Six signalled.

'_This is Galactica Actual, what do you want _?' came the curt reply.

'A peaceful resolution, your surrender' Caprica Six told him. 'I give my word that none of you will be harmed if you lay down your arms' she promised.

'_Not a chance in hell_' Adama responded flatly.

'Admiral you are completely outgunned and outnumbered' Caprica Six told him. 'A brave ending is still just a pointless ending here' she said.

'_I'm not planning to go anywhere_' Adama replied.

'This is foolish Admiral, you've fallen right into our trap' Caprica Six told him, the Cavil laughing nearby.

Adama must have been able to hear the Cavil because he laughed himself. '_No_' he said. '_You've fallen into my trap_' he responded.

Caprica Six turned to the Cavil with a quizzical look on her face. 'It's a stupid bluff, nothing but bravado' the Cavil told her.

'Massive jump signature detected two hundred kilometres away' a Four announced. 'Wait, two more large vessels now appearing on DRADIS' he added. 'We are being scanned by a similar detection system as we encountered on the fighters of the Thirteenth' he continued, 'only with several orders of magnitude more power behind the signal.'

'Closest vessel shows on DRADIS as the size of a battlestar' a Three reported.

Aboard the _SLS Zughoffer Weir_ Admiral Franks wondered if the Cylons had a clue what was about to happen to them. 'Order _Bismark_ and _Yukon_to launch dropships and fighters and fire at will' he said. 'Captain Ferry you are free to engage' he told the ship's Captain.

'Weapons officer' Ferry responded happily, 'Give 'em a broadside' he ordered with obvious glee, unleashing the staggering firepower of the Heavy Naval PPC's that lined the flanks of the 1400 hundred metre long McKenna Class Battleship onto the Cylon Basestar that was unfortunate enough to be in their way.

The LRPPC carried by Wolverine aerospace fighters weighs six tons, a Heavy Naval PPC conversely weighs three _thousand_ tons which gives some conception of what the _Zughoffer Weir_ was lashing out with, though of course then you also really need to factor in that the McKenna Class carries forty-eight of the things...

* * *

**SLS Yukon – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Massing less than a third as much as the _Zughoffer Weir_ the upgraded Riga Class Destroyer _Yukon_ didn't mount anywhere near as much in the way of firepower, and most of its battery was forward facing so whilst the battleships presented broadsides to the enemy _Yukon_had been turning to point its nose at the closest Basestar whilst launching her fighters and dropships.

A hybrid of a Destroyer and a Carrier the Riga Class carried some fifty fighters, the same number as the more massive McKenna, and the Kirghiz and Visigoth aerospace fighters were scrambling through the hanger doors as the two dropships it was carrying began to launch their own fighters.

As the least powerful of the three SLDF capital ships being deployed Admiral Franks had compensated by giving _Yukon_his two most heavily armed dropships. The Titan Class was a light carrier, itself some two-hundred and fifty metres long, and carried eighteen aerospace fighters plus a fairly formidable forward battery of its own. The two Titans had been in mothballs for decades and had never been upgraded since their construction so their weaponry was still as it had been when first designed way back in the 27th Century but they still added some much needed additional weight of fire to the Yukon Battle Group and the thirty-six additional aircraft they were launching should help deal with the swarms of Raiders that would be heading their direction.

_Yukon_opened up with her forward battery, mostly Naval Lasers but with her huge bore Naval Autocannon firing too, the projectiles from the latter lazily coasting through space at merely high-supersonic speeds by comparison. The beams cut deep into the hull of the basestar which had neither the thick bulky armour-plate of a Colonial Battlestar nor the more advanced ablative armour types used by the Star League that were intended to be slashed by Directed-Energy-Weapons.

Excited comms chatter from the battleships _Zughoffer Weir_ and _Bismark_ reported their own vicious broadsides of massed Heavy Naval PPC's and Naval Lasers respectively had already done for two of the Cylon Capital ships and _Bismark_was already turning her forward guns on a third as she came about, mauling it with her array of eight forward-facing Heavy Naval PPC's and the two huge Naval Autocannon she carried which were of a calibre that a munchkin could actually stand up in.

The basestar under _Yukon_'s own guns was venting atmosphere and seemed to be on fire, what the hell it was made of the Captain of the _Yukon_could only guess but it looked very spectacular through the telescope as the laser beams became visible in the gas and debris streaming out from the oddly shaped craft with its strange design aesthetic.

Missiles launched from the basestars towards _Yukon_ had taken far longer to cross the gap between them but they were fighting back at least and doing so with considerable determination the Cylon capital ship firing every tube it had in a continual salvo of missiles that streaked towards _Yukon_ leaving multiple trails in their wake. Lacking decent point-defence the destroyer relied on its fighter complement to deal with this kind of assault, or the hundreds of Raiders that were now being vectored away from _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_towards each of the SLDF vessels, and particle-beam and laser weapons from the aerospace fighters were already swatting down the missiles as best they could.

Not all of the fighters were the relatively modern Kirghiz and Visigoth omnifighters of Clan design, although it should be noted that even the newer Visigoth was now a century-old. New Circe had not yet replaced its entire aerospace fighter fleet and the mothballed Titans had been loaded with the best of the second-line fighters, in many cases being flown by pilots who were not SLDF Regulars but rather the weekend warriors of the reserves. The centuries old Tomahawk and Trident fighters had been the last scheduled to be replaced as New Circe modernised and sold on its older craft because they were lighter, more agile craft than the omnifighters and they were at least the upgraded "Royal" versions making them still generally superior to what they were flying in the Inner Sphere in any case. The Tridents only massed a mere twenty-tons, barely twice what a tiny Viper did, and could sustain brutal accelerations, six gees without overthrust so they tore off ahead of the other fighters, pilots often twenty years older than the ones in the omnifighters acting very much like teenagers and having to be ordered not to try and take on the entire Cylon Fleet on their own.

_Zughoffer Weir_had turned and was now putting an HNPPC broadside from its starboard battery into one Basestar whilst accelerating hard towards a second, firing volleys from its forward Naval Autocannon as it went adding its own momentum to the muzzle velocity of the guns. For some inexplicable reason the basestars seemed to still be just standing there and taking it once the first shells arrived rather than manoeuvring to avoid, not that the SLDF gun-crews were complaining. Even though they didn't seem to have much in the way of sub-light engines the Cylon capital ships should have been taking more evasive action as soon as the huge Naval Autocannon shells started smashing into them but although they did eventually start to react they had already paid the price for not doing so immediately by then.

The Mercury Class Battlestar _Pegasus_ was itself pounding a Basestar into floating debris. Her mass-drivers and heavy guns were orientated so that she could deliver maximum punishment straight ahead and her forward battery was far more effective against capital ships than her older less massive sister _Galactica_ could achieve. _Galactica_ herself meanwhile was exchanging fire with two Basestars with her main turrets, whilst her point-defence, like that of _Pegasus_, threw out a firestorm aimed at Raiders and incoming missiles alike.

Already in the thick of it the Vipers that _Galactica_ had launched were now mixed in with those from _Pegasus_ and over a hundred Mark VII's, all now equipped with medium lasers slung underneath, plus an additional squadron of aging Mark II's launched from _Pegasus_were duelling in a gigantic dog-fight with thousands of Raiders and Heavy Raiders. Mixed in with the smaller fighters the twenty-two remaining Kirghiz fighters under the command of Wing Commander Defoe were overwhelmed with targets and Defoe only hoped she wasn't going to accidentally flash-fry a poor Viper pilot with her LRPPC's, or shred one with her cluster-rounds, as she pulled the nose of her hundred-ton machine about.

The Texas Class Battleship _Bismark_had been carrying the Wolverines four Leopard CV dropships, small seventy-metre long craft that carried a mere six aerospace fighters apiece but the more the merrier and the Texas Class only carried forty fighters itself so another twenty-four was most welcome. The Leopards themselves had been upgraded once decades before, with their original PPC armament replaced by the Enhanced Extended Range Particle Projection Cannon that was both the ancestor of both the Kerensky-Loyalist Clan's CERPPC and the superior Wolverine LRPPC, but they weren't anywhere near as dangerous as the much larger Titans so their own contribution was limited to helping the fighters in an Anti-Raider and Anti-Missile roll. Nonetheless every platform counted and the Leopard CV's were soon racking up kills in the amazingly target-rich environment that presented itself.

The Cylons were not really very skilful at war, their usual approach and tactics, such as they were, being largely based around being difficult to kill in an infantry firefight in the case of Centurions, or winning by sheer weight of numbers in the case of Raiders. Their Basestars lacked the point-defence or heavy guns of the Colonial Equivalents with only missile racks for their own defensive and offensive capabilities and the thing that really crippled them was that the Hybrids, the interconnected "souls" of the Basestars were a very long way from being the rational, logical, single-minded and above all completely sane things they should be. As the Basestars were slashed by lasers, burned-through by particle beams and smashed and shattered by projectile weaponry the Hybrids screamed and their pain was felt even by the ships not being fired upon by the Thirteenth yet. This was not a time for being their usually quite cryptic selves and being in distress too wasn't helping the situation one bit, they babbled what the Cavils in particular viewed as superstitious nonsense between reports of damage and this was also starting to badly effect the mainly Centurion crews.

The original Basestars of the First Cylon War pre-dated the development of the Hybrids and would frankly have made a better fight of it in this situation, and for that matter the smarter Model 005 Centurions would have been able to adjust quicker too. It was taking the Cylons too long to react at every turn and having the enraged Cavils screaming orders and the Leobens being almost as cryptic as the Hybrids was not helping. Only Boomer Eight had a decent idea what to do, she was trying to get the others to accept a unified command and fight a lot more creatively in the Colonial Fleet fashion, run away if they had to, for now but it was chaos.

_Yukon_ finally pounded her first target to pieces and the destroyer and her two Titan Dropship escorts swung about and headed straight towards a pair of Basestars which had been throwing missiles at them. Hundreds of Raiders were tearing towards them preparing to volley off a massive salvo of their own shorter ranged missiles when they got into effective range but the Wolverine vessels had jumped in hundreds of kilometres away and the distance the Raiders had to traverse before they could fire back was a killing ground for the SLDF fighters. In the battle over Aquaria a mere two dozen Kirghiz had slaughtered better than half a Baseship's worth of fighters before they could retaliate in a situation like this and _Yukon_and the Titans had deployed well over three times that number of aircraft.

It was pure unmitigated slaughter, the Wolverine fighter-jocks were having the time of their lives as their Directed-Energy-Weapons played over the thinly armoured Cylon warbirds.

_Zughoffer Weir_had her engines at half their maximum thrust heading straight towards an enemy, Capital ship forward guns blazing and her Kirghiz and Visigoth fighters doing their best to keep the Raiders away. 'Roll the ship, bring port and starboard batteries to bear on the second target' Captain Ferry ordered as the ship prepared to unleash her full fury.

'Sir, this will push our heat up into the red' the Weapons Officer warned as the McKenna Class rolled. 'We'll have to cease fire with the forward guns at least' he stated.

'Do it' Ferry responded and the Basestar ahead got a respite as the _Zughoffer Weir_stopped firing her forward guns.

'Port and Starboard batteries are at correct elevations' the weapon's officer reported. 'Ship rolling, starboard guns coming to bear in five, four three, two, one...'

'FIRE!' Ferry ordered and the twenty-four Heavy Naval PPC's on one side of the ship burned into a Basestar some two-hundred and fifty kilometres distant, completely incinerating several dozen Raiders that had been unfortunate enough to be in the path of the particle beams. The Basestar was crippled and began to tumble in space as the air inside vented from compartments that had been holed, armour and bulkheads seared away.

As the ship slowly rolled the port batteries now began to line up with the same target. 'Port battery ready' the Weapons Officer reported. 'Five, four, three, two, one...'

'FIRE!' Ferry ordered again, putting a second broadside from the port guns into the same ship they had just struck.

'Massive secondary explosions, she's coming apart Sir' another officer reported excitedly as explosions rippled across the surface of the Cylon vessel.

'Very nice Captain' Admiral Franks told Ferry.

'Thank you Sir' Ferry replied. 'Weapons Officer please resume firing on the target dead-ahead once we've managed to dump some of that heat into the sinks' he said. One major problem with firing both port and starboard guns in quick succession was that forty-eight Heavy Naval Particle Projection Cannon produced a staggering amount of waste heat and you didn't want to cook yourself doing that kind of thing too often.

'We're about a minute from being up to our neck in Raiders Captain' the officer manning the Radar station announced.

'Well we didn't figure on getting away with this without taking a few knocks did we?' Admiral Franks observed, looking to Captain Ferry.

'Put the port and starboard batteries into anti-aircraft mode' Ferry ordered. They weren't actually all that effective at it but lacking Colonial style point-defence it was the best they had. 'Warn our pilots not to get in the way' he added. Any of the main guns on a McKenna would turn a hundred-ton Kirghiz into vapour.

'Raiders launching missiles, they're firing off everything they have, hundreds of inbounds already, ECM largely ineffective' an officer reported. 'Even with warheads designed to take out Vipers we're about to have our paint-job ruined' he added.

'Okay I think we've demonstrated our conventional firepower enough, it's time to stop screwing around' Admiral Franks declared. 'Signal _Bismark_ and _Yukon_that we're finishing this' he said. 'If the opportunity presents itself start nuking them at will' he ordered. 'Then send this transmission to the Basestars in Caprican' he continued. 'The Star League Defence Force wishes you a long and happy next life but advises it will be longer and happier if you stay the frak off our territory' he said. 'Then add this to the message afterwards' he said. 'When the universe turns bright, don't look at the light, now bend down, put your head between your knees, kiss your ass goodbye and wait to be resurrected.'

'Classy' Captain Ferry told the Admiral, trying not to laugh.

'No need to kiss _my_ ass Captain' Franks replied.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

It was almost impossible to keep track of the fighter battle so Admiral Adama concentrated on the Basestars. _Galactica_probably had the least powerful main guns in the fleet, even the SLDF destroyer could put more direct hurt on a capital ship than the old battlestar could, although her turrets were still pounding a couple of Cylon ships nicely, firing high-explosives rather than the flak rounds she would be using against Raiders.

The point-defence guns were starting to overheat like they had over Aquaria, using the same trick they were dumping the waste heat into the water tanks and venting them into space when the pressure built up but that was a stop-gap measure at best. Vipers and Raiders were swarming all around exchanging missiles and fire from their Kinetic-Energy-Weapons with the Vipers enjoying the added benefit of their lasers shifting the loss ratio still further in their favour than normal but nonetheless Colonial Pilots were dying as were increasing numbers of Wolverines with their Kirghiz fighters unable to withstand the relentless hits of Cylon anti-fighter missiles and thirty-millimetre KEW's forever.

The constant thumps of Raider missiles detonating against the hull were interspersed by reports of damage. A trio of fortunately conventional, though still powerful, Basestar missiles hit across the starboard flank, two hitting the flight pod and one hitting the main hull knocking out several of the point defence guns and also blasting away some of Galactica's remaining armour plates and hundreds of tons worth of salvage anchored nearby. Damage-Control teams were already at work but air was venting out through a breach in the hull and there were reports of casualties.

_Pegasus_was holding up better, her armour was still fully in place and she had a superior design internally, with stronger bulkheads and more pressure-doors. A brief flash heralded a nuclear detonation against her hull but the great battlestar almost seemed to shrug it off by comparison, the loss of some of her plates and a portion of her secondary batteries not affecting her ability to fight on almost as if she had been poked at rather than hit with an atomic warhead.

Kara Thace killed yet another Raider with her laser-cannon and jinking to avoid tracer-fire from another one pulled the nose of her Viper Mark VII around to fire what was left of her own thirty-millimetre ammunition right into the path of a Heavy Raider, punching holes along its flank until one round hit something important and it exploded.

One problem with lengthy engagements like this was that Viper KEW's chewed through their ammo supply like a fat guy at an all-you-can-eat buffet, only here the buffet wasn't being replenished Thrace thought to herself as her counters read less than ten rounds per gun. The laser would keep going until the reactor fuel was used up but it needed time to recharge between shots which was a pain in the ass because it never seemed to be ready when you needed it to be.

More tracer-fire lashed past her cockpit but the Raider responsible soon exploded as another Viper got on its tail and put a short KEW burst up its ass, taking out the engines. '_You owe me one Starbuck_' Kat declared as she hurtled past, engines at full throttle.

'You already owe me more than that, I'll just knock one off the slate' Starbuck replied, banking hard right pulling onto the tail of another Raider and finding to her joy that the little red LED that meant the laser was charged was lit up. 'Woo-hoo!' she exclaimed firing the thing, burning a hole right through the back of the raider between the engines, the beam going on to neatly bisect the organic computer AI inside.

Another fleeting though blinding flash sent a bolt of fear through Starbuck that the Toasters had nuked _Galactica_ but as she turned her head she saw that the closest basestar was now in three pieces the sections slowly tumbling away from each other. '_This is Galactica Actual_' a very familiar voice introduced itself on the Viper command frequency. '_I thought you might all want to know that Raptor Four just took out one of the Basestars with a nuke we picked up on Aquaria_' he told them. Adama figured a little morale boost wouldn't go amiss right then.

'Sucks to be a frakking Toaster today!' Starbuck howled out. The Admiral had been husbanding his nuclear-armed Raptors until he decided that the Raiders were thinned out enough which meant that despite the confusion they either must be winning or else they were losing so badly it didn't matter any more.

A large chunk of what had either been a Raider or perhaps a Viper engine slammed into Wing Commander Defoe's Kirghiz as she tried to get a bead on a Heavy Raider. Already out of cluster rounds for her four autocannon she had her LRPPC's charged and if the damn thing would just fly straight for one damn second she could melt the bastard and find another one.

Before she could fire however someone else stole her kill as what appeared to be a trio of lasers cut across the Heavy Raiders airframe. 'Dammit' she responded through gritted teeth, angry for a second before she realised what the fighter that had done it was, an old Trident was tearing through the fight at high speed, taking opportunistic pot-shits at anything that crossed its path as it went.

Another Trident appeared. 'Holy shit it's the cavalry' Defoe realised as the third of the light aerospace fighters which had just arrived in the nick of time took out a pair of raiders. The twenty-ton machines weren't as responsive as a Viper but they could sure as hell out dog-fight a sluggish Kirghiz and they were much better suited for this kind of close-up mayhem.

_Yukon_and her supporting craft were moving to support the Colonial Vessels, sending the fastest fighters on ahead. At full thrust the handful of Tridents had arrived first but soon a dozen Tomahawks appeared and then over twice that number of Visigoths.

The broken hulks of Basestars were drifting amongst the wreckage of thousands of Raiders as the fight neared the end-game. _Zughoffer Weir_ and _Bismark_ were fighting off several squadrons worth of Raiders still but as _Pegasus_ and _Yukon_jointly hammered a Cylon capital ship into scrap with their forward batteries Boomer Eight on one of the remaining Basestars finally managed to gain the upper hand in the arguments and ordered a full retreat by any ship still able to use its FTL.

Two Basestars seemed to jump away in a flash although it soon became apparent that one of them had in fact been nuked by a missile from _Bismark_instead. Others tried to follow but they were too damaged and then Raiders and Heavy Raiders started to flee, dozens then hundreds that were able activating their FTL's and following the Basestar to safety.

'The Lords of Kobol love us' Saul Tigh declared as what was left of the Cylon forces were ruthlessly dispatched in short order, nuclear strikes on damaged basestars finishing them off in style and the remaining Cylon fighters being mopped up by triumphant pilots in SLDF or Colonial uniforms.

_Galactica_ was still venting gas from breaches in her hull, as was _Zughoffer Weir_after taking a few too many missile strikes from a basestar towards the end, but it was clearly an overwhelming victory nonetheless. The Cylon Fleet had brought three Resurrection Ships with it, the vessels waiting one jump away, but they were completely unable to handle all the downloads and hundreds of Raider minds were lost forever when the buffers overloaded before they could manage to divert much of the traffic back to the Resurrection Hub itself.

Boomer Eight managed to escape alive but Caprica Six had to wait nearly three weeks until she was reborn on the Resurrection Hub and had to requisition a Heavy Raider to return her to the rest of the fleet. It was now massing, not to go after the Colonials but in preparation to meet a feared retaliatory attack by the Thirteenth Tribe against Cylon Territory.

When Caprica Six finally reached the fleet two weeks later she found the Cavil who had persuaded her that the Earthers could not have jumpdrives and punched him on the nose, earning a round of amused applause from the vision of Baltar only she could see and surprisingly an admission from the One clutching his broken nose that he probably deserved that.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_The Cylon tactics of relentless pursuit used in episode 1:01 33 aren't a bad way to deal with the firepower of the Thirteenth, if you can't beat their machines beat them instead. The Magellan Class Jumpship used by the Comstar Explorer Corps is an ideal long-range scout (and message runner) especially given that it mounts a Hyperpulse Generator and Lithium Fusion Battery give it a nice 60 LY "sprint" ability too. The Star League McKenna Class Battleship mounts fearsome firepower and can also carry 50 fighters plus six dropships._

_The bulk of the SLDF aerospace fighters involved are the hundred-ton Kirghiz and sixty-ton Visigoth's but they are also using the older and smaller forty-five ton THK-63b "Royal" version of theTomahawk and the twenty-ton TRN-3Tb "Royal" Trident which are less heavily armed but faster. Even the Trident is twice the mass of a Viper and not as nimble but it can really accelerate! The Texas Class Battleship SLS Bismark is smaller than the McKenna Class and less heavily armed but conversely it is more heavily armoured. Like the other clans the Wolverines had equipped all their ships with Lithium-Fusion batteries so they can make a double jump. When we did see Basestars fighting they really did seem to explicably just stand there and take it rather than manoeuver or even jump away. They also never really deployed their Raiders effectively and often charged down Galactica's guns like lunatics. They'll learn fast after this debacle though! The SLDF can knock out so many ships so fast at long-range in a scenario like this that the Cylons can't really on weight of numbers to carry the day. From what we saw of the Hybrids I can't see them reacting calmly to the ships they're directly connected with being savaged by heavy weaponry. It all just added to the monumental "clusterfrak"._

_Hoped you enjoyed the fleet action, the Cylons will never fight on such unfavourable terms again after that lesson in never underestimating your enemy or overestimating yourself._


	15. Chapter 14

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Citizenship guarantees service."_

**New Circe Conscription Notification **

* * *

******Colonial City-State – New Circe – 3045CE**

President Roslin stared at Admiral Adama. 'So does this mean the rumour I heard that I'm supposed to lead a victory parade through the city is off the agenda? Because I'd consider avoiding that a reward not a punishment' he told her as they sat together alone in her office. He had only recently arrived from _Galactica_ by Raptor, the ship jumping into New Circe space from the site of the battle two days before. The Thirteenth being justifiably paranoid about how the Cylons had tracked them from Cyrannus all ships and equipment were being inspected thoroughly before they could jump to New Circe and all personnel were being screened by the new Cylon detectors, starting with the thousands of new civilian refugees. All of the crew of _Pegasus_ had already been cleared, and they had been starting to screen the civilian population of the Colonial City State when the HPG transmission from the _SLS Pheidippides_arrived informing them of the Admirals return.

'I thought it was just Cylon lies, or some lawyer trick with that cocky frak Lampkin calling you as a witness hoping you'd never make it back' Roslin told him.

'Sorry to disappoint you' Adama replied.

'_Disappoint_ me?' Roslin responded. 'You just told me that the Colonial Fleet broke the armistice with the Cylons and that _you_commanded the mission!' she exclaimed.

Adama sighed. 'I wish I could say that I was only obeying orders and genuinely thought that was an excuse' he responded. 'The Fleet thought that we'd gotten away with it but assuming the Six was telling the truth about them recovering the recon pilot I sent we obviously didn't' he said.

Roslin closed her eyes and rubbed the bridge of her nose. 'I honestly don't know what to say or think' she said. 'I just wish to gods I had never learned this information' she told him.

'You're not the one that just found out he may have caused the war' Adama replied quietly.

Roslin opened her eyes again. 'Do you really think that?' she asked him.

'The Cylons always thought _we_were the bad guys, the ones that enslaved them' Adama pointed out. 'What if by crossing the armistice line we proved to them that we actually were the warmongers they assumed we were?' he asked rhetorically. 'From their perspective the attack on the Colonies might be a pre-emptive strike designed to hit us before we could hit them' he suggested.

'But we _weren't_going to attack them' Roslin responded.

'It's a matter of perception not reality' Adama replied. 'We've crossed the border into their territory which leads to them sending spies, skinjob infiltrators, into ours' he said. 'And what do they find out?' he asked rhetorically. 'They find out we're building more and more of the new modern classes of Battlestar like the _Valkyrie_ and _Pegasus_and retiring the older vessels in the fleet' he continued, 'not only are these new ships better armed and armoured we've also developed networked computers they can't hack negating their best advantage from the First Cylon War.'

'You think they were afraid of our ships?' Roslin asked quizzically.

'Even a decades old design like _Galactica_ can take on two of their latest Basestars and have a better than even chance to beat them in a fair fight' Adama replied. 'How many Cylon capital ships could a couple of dozen Mercury Class vessels like _Pegasus_ take on?' he continued knowingly. 'We had a fleet of _one-hundred and twenty_ battlestars Madam President, our Viper Mark VII's are much better fighters than Cylon raiders, look at our kill ratios _before_ we got laser weapons from the Thirteenth' he said, 'hell we were killing them by the squadron-load with forty year old _Mark II's_for frak's sake' he exclaimed. 'Our ships are tougher than theirs with far superior point-defence and we have better anti-ship weapons overall.'

Roslin blinked. 'We had military superiority?' she responded in surprise.

'Well we've not seen any evidence they had enough basestars to defeat the Colonial Fleet in a conventional war' Adama said flatly. 'They've got a better jump-drive design, their newer model Centurions make great infantry and shock-troops and their missiles at least are better than ours but an armed conflict on our terms would have gone badly for the Cylons' he told her.

'So they used unconventional means instead' Roslin replied, accepting his professional opinion on military matters. 'But surely once they _did_infiltrate the Colonies they would have found out we weren't planning an attack like I said before?'

'Not under President Adar perhaps but what if the next president was more minded towards the Twelve Colonies launching a pre-emptive strike against the Cylons?' Adama suggested. 'The Admiralty disliked Adar, they thought he was a wimp even if he did occasionally throw them a bone by approving new toys for us to play with' he continued. 'There were plenty of hawks in the quorum who might have been President one day, men and women who may have decided to solve the Cylon problem once and for all' he said. 'Frankly if we'd known how inferior their ships were in a fight I might have supported it _myself_if I was sure they couldn't launch a retaliatory counter-strike against our population centres' he admitted.

Roslin pursed her lips. 'They're only machines after all' she said.

'That's what we think, or thought maybe' Adama replied.

'Nothing you did justified their use of nuclear weapons on our cities, the attempted genocide of our race' Roslin stated. 'It was nothing but unwarranted mass-murder.'

'I agree but it does make their motivations for the attack on the Colonies look a lot less unprovoked, if not the methods' Adama noted. 'They might have been willing to leave us in peace but now I guess we'll never know' he said. And 'I'll go the rest of my life with twenty billion lives on my conscience' he added bleakly.

'You brought back thousands more survivors from the Colonies, we've destroyed fourteen basestars and I don't know how many thousand Raiders with the help of the Thirteenth' Roslin reminded him. 'This should be a time of celebration not introspection.'

'And yet I'm going to have to admit under oath that the Cylons may have genuinely believed they were acting in self-defence and that the Colonial Fleet might have triggered the war' Adama responded sadly.

Roslin pursed her lips. 'I could ask you to lie' she said.

'You could ask, and I might even consider doing it, but the Cylons know the facts and eventually our people will too' Adama responded. 'I don't want to swear to tell the truth with my hand on one of the sacred scrolls and then lie, and I don't think it would be good for our people long-term if I did' he said. 'I can honestly testify that the civilian government had no part in violating the armistice as far as I know, which should insulate you, but I'll offer my resignation anyway assuming you want it?'

'I don't but I wish I knew how the people and the press are going to take it' Roslin replied, not contemplating accepting his offer for an instant. 'I guarantee that the Quorum will want to haul you in front of a investigation committee though' she warned.

'I'll make sure to polish my buttons' Adama responded. 'So what do you think this will do to the morale-boosting trial you organised in my absence Madam President?' he asked.

'Really could have done without this evidence being introduced to the trial' Roslin told him. 'The defence has already managed to get any evidence obtained under torture ruled inadmissible and it would be hard to argue that the murder of Admiral Cain was a planned assassination rather than a fairly understandable act of personal revenge' she continued. 'That frakking lawyer has been arguing that the Colonial Fleet computers themselves were a military target and that we can't directly implicate this individual Cylon with the strikes on civilians.'

'Can you see the jury buying that?' Adama queried.

Roslin frowned. 'Not really but it all helps cloud the entire process' she replied. 'We know that Cylons _are_individuals to the point that they'll even turn against their own' she noted. 'I'm also sure that punishing one of the things for the actions of all the others is starting to look less like justice and more like vengeance, petty or otherwise.'

'It's still a spy and saboteur' Adama pointed out.

'Unfortunately the quick and easy option of giving up on the trial and putting it up against a wall for summary justice isn't really politically acceptable now, internally or externally' Roslin replied regretfully. 'We accorded the damn thing rights in order to obtain extradition and if we back away from due process now the frakking Thirteenth will go insane' she said glumly. 'We can still make the espionage charges stick easily enough, and probably the sabotage, but with your testimony thrown into the mix and with all that damn video evidence showing her treatment on _Pegasus_I don't know if we'll get the death penalty verdict everyone was clamouring for at the beginning.'

Admiral Adama nodded. 'Do _you_think it deserves to die?' he asked the President. 'Off the record.'

'In the abstract as a race I'd exterminate them for what they did, and to protect the remaining survivors of the Twelve Colonies, but as for her as an individual I'm just not sure anymore' Roslin admitted. 'The psychiatric reports all say that the frakking thing is traumatised, if it was human they would recommend counselling.'

'We know they were working on Hybrids forty years ago' Adama recalled. 'We don't know for certain when they perfected something as near-human as what they used to infiltrate us but from the looks of it they ended up copying us so well they almost _are_ us now' he said. 'Maybe _that's_ why they reacted the way they did to our incursion over the Armistice Line, they overreacted because they _weren't_thinking like logical machines they were thinking like _people_.'

'And people aren't rational, we make up justifications to suit what we want to do' Roslin concurred. 'The Cylons wanted revenge for slavery, they were afraid of us and maybe we gave them the excuse they needed to destroy us.'

'Add in all their religious mania, dressing up their attack on the Colonies as a Holy Crusade, and they rationalised genocide' Adama said thoughtfully. 'They're a mirror to us you know' he observed. 'We created them and in a way they re-created themselves to be more like us in every way.'

'That doesn't put either race in a good light does it?' Roslin asked rhetorically. 'I suppose the Thirteenth will say that they fixed those flaws in _their_DNA' she continued wryly.

Adama grimaced. 'Yeah, about the whole "Thirteenth Tribe" thing' he responded. 'We need to talk about what we found, or rather _didn't_find on Kobol' he said. 'On the plus side it might cause such a media frenzy and an upheaval in our society that the whole breaking the armistice thing gets sidelined' he told her.

Roslin looked him in the eyes. 'Is this the reason you arrived with that crate of vintage ambrosia?' she asked suspiciously.

'Well I guarantee you're going to need a drink' Adama replied apologetically.

* * *

**Cale Family Farm – New Circe – 3045CE**

The sprawling farm was over three hours drive away from McEvedy City but getting dropped off by Raptor cut the journey down to a few minutes. It landed on the large VSTOL pad a kilometre from the farmhouse and surrounding barns and as it lifted off Geoff Cale put on the backpack containing most of his gear and then picked up his duffel bag and the largest of his new wife's bags too. 'I can carry it myself' Cally told him. 'I'm pregnant, I'm not an invalid' she said.

'If we arrive at the door and there's a woman with me, pregnant or otherwise, carrying luggage while I've got a free hand my father would disown me' the mechwarrior replied not totally in jest.

'From what I've seen of the women on this planet I can't imagine any of them having trouble carrying their own bags' Cally observed.

Cale laughed. 'My Mom spends one weekend a month humping artillery rounds about in the Army Reserves but that's not really the point' he said as they started to walk towards the farmhouse.

'So why do you have somewhere to land aircraft?' Cally asked him curiously.

'Everywhere does' her husband told her. 'Every farm, mine and industrial facility outside the capital can be used as an emergency landing strip for helicopters or aerospace fighters' he continued. 'It's the same reason why all our factories are designed to be dual use' he said. 'The plant where they make tractors and bulldozers can be switched over to tank production in days.'

Cally laughed herself. 'You're really paranoid people you know' she told him.

'Happy is that city which in times of peace thinks of war' Cale quoted an ancient saying back at her. 'If the Twelve Colonies had our level of military preparedness the Cylons wouldn't have caught you napping' he noted.

'If we were like _you_I'd be nearly two metres tall, built like a professional athlete and we wouldn't have ever met' Cally replied.

'Much worse for me at least' he observed, stopping to bend down and give her a kiss on the cheek.

'I still think you should have called ahead' Cally told him as they neared the farm.

'I had no idea that Colonel McEvedy was going to get us put at the front of the queue for screening' he replied. 'Did I tell you he's going to get me made up to First Lieutenant as soon as the paperwork is approved?'

'Only five or six times' Cally replied with a smile.

'It's not a lot more pay but I'll make captain faster now and that'll mean better married quarters' her new husband said brightly.

Cally frowned. 'I'm still not sure I want to live on an Army Base' she said.

'Well I can't afford a big enough house off the base on my salary and if we do live in married quarters, even for just a couple of years, we can save enough to get somewhere really nice in McEvedy' the mechwarrior officer suggested.

'We could get one of the new houses being built in the City-State' Cally told him. 'I could get a job working ground-crew at the new airbase they're constructing' she countered.

'The SLDF is going to be buying Raptors and putting Raptor jumpdrives on our fighters' Geoff reminded her. 'They'll need experienced people to look after them, you could do that at one of our facilities, maybe as a secondment from the Colonial Fleet?'

'At least you don't expect me to quit my job and be a full time mother' Cally said with relief.

'Sibling Companies are where kids go while their parents do their jobs' he replied. 'You're so funny' he said, smiling at her.

'Oh yeah, Sibling Companies, the combination crèche and kindergarten where little Wolverine cubs get taught how to strip and reassemble assault weapons while they recite poetry about wars' Cally commented on the subject of child-rearing here.

'Learning the Remembrance is good for language skills, promoting unity of purpose and teaching good citizenship' her husband told her, not seeing it as funny himself. 'I didn't learn how to strip an assault rifle or fire an Inferno Launcher until I was twelve anyway' he corrected her. 'And wolverines have _kits_not cubs' he added with a chuckle.

'Twelve?' Cally queried, raising her eyebrows 'I was joking' she admitted.

'I was a Kit Scout, they don't just take us camping in the woods and teach us how to tie knots, the idea is to give children a grounding in basic infantry skills' he explained. 'It's voluntary, or it would have been with different parents anyway' he told her.

They must have been seen coming because a woman who looked to be in her late thirties came running out of the house calling out in English, some of which Cally understood. Geoff Cale put down the bags in his hands and embraced her. 'Cally this is my Mom' he introduced her in Caprican. 'Mom this is my wife Cally' he continued in English.

Good genes, Cally thought as she added another decade or so to the woman's age, life expectancy here was a hundred and twenty and climbing with each generation she knew. The woman was a hundred and eighty centimetres tall, about average height for a civilian woman here, and like most everyone else looked disgustingly fit and healthy as she paused for a second looking at Cally before embracing her in turn saying something. 'I don't speak your language very well yet' Cally replied as best she could in halting English.

'Mom says you should come inside and sit down and she'll get you something to eat' Geoff translated. 'And now she's ripping on me for not calling ahead' he continued as his mother started berating him, her tone if not her words requiring little interpretation. 'Dad is ploughing one of the fields on the far side of the river, my brothers and sisters are still at school or working but they'll be back home soon' he told his wife, 'both my grandmothers are in McEvedy shopping and both my grandfathers are off in the woods, supposedly hunting bears but they're probably working their way through a keg of hembränt by now' he said. 'Best thing you can use potatoes for they always say' he continued, laughing.

'Why _did_you introduce bears, wolves and jaguars and things to this planet?' Cally asked, 'I always did want to ask' she said. Cloning then releasing deer, reindeer and even wild boar into the forests made a great deal more sense than the dangerous predators released into the forests too.

'So we can shoot them' the mechwarrior explained, odd question he thought.

Back at the capital Lord Protector Vaun and her cabinet were receiving a report from the three most senior officers who had gone on the Cyrannus expedition with Admiral Franks also in attendance. Colonel McEvedy had already given his analysis of the performance of his forces against Centurions, Wing Commander Defoe had presented a short lecture on the capabilities of Cylon Raiders and now Commander Thorpe was explaining how Basestars measured up, which wasn't well.

'They're really that bad, query affirmative?' Vaun asked in surprise.

'Affirmative' Thorpe confirmed. 'In terms of acceleration, armament and armour they're noticeably inferior to their Colonial equivalents, let alone our ships' he said as a hologram of a basestar rotated in mid-air before them. 'Their missiles are adequate but they don't use them as well as they should or as often and they lack other defensive or offensive weaponry just as the Colonials told us' he continued. 'It's almost as if they have half a naval doctrine, they've got un-armoured Fleet Carriers designed to carry a large number of aircraft but they didn't realise they needed escort ships as well if they were going to take that approach' he said. 'The Colonial Fleet would have been better off with a mix of carriers and battleships too, their battlestars are generalists and not optimised for either role, but at least they _can_do both jobs.'

Admiral Franks nodded his agreement with the intelligence officer's assessment. 'As long as we maintain our monopoly on Directed Energy Weapons any confrontation between our capital ships and enemy basestars is going to be very bloody for them' he said. 'Or hydraulic fluidy if you prefer' he added with a chuckle.

'That's not to say that they wouldn't have done much better than they did with better tactics' Thorpe noted. 'In both engagements we fought the enemy were fighting at ranges that were better for us than them' he said. 'Two or three basestars jumping almost directly alongside one of our ships and throwing every missile they had at us from short-range range is going to hurt badly' he said. 'I would recommend a re-fit of our ships to deal with massed missile attacks' he advised. 'A mix of Colonial point-defence batteries plus Laser Anti-Missile Systems would drastically improve the ability of our ships to cope with that kind of battle.'

'I concur' Franks said. 'The damage to the _Zughoffer Weir_ could have been avoided if it was better able to defend itself from large numbers of fighters and missile barrages' he told the politicians. 'I'd also argue that it would be in our interests to improve the defensive and offensive capabilities of the Colonial vessels, _Galactica_ in particular as the forward battery on _Pegasus_is already a decent threat to just about anything at their typical engagement ranges' he continued then paused for a second 'I have a slightly radical suggestion if I'm allowed to make it in this forum' he requested of the Lord Protector.

'Go ahead Admiral' Vaun told him.

'_Zug_ is already heading for the orbital shipyard repair facilities' Franks noted, 'once everyone aboard _Galactica_is checked out by the Cylon detectors we'll be jumping her back here too to repair battle damage and to replace her armour belt, even more of which is missing now' he said. 'I suggest we do more than fix the ships, I suggest in fact that we take the opportunity to mix things up a little.'

'Meaning?' Vaun queried.

'We could dismount eight of the Heavy Naval PPC's from the _Zughoffer Weir_ and mount them as a forward battery on _Galactica_ whilst taking a hundred or so of the dual point-defence guns from the battlestar and mounting them on our flagship in return' he said. 'We then add laser AMS systems to _both_vessels.'

The Lord Protector and the Cabinet stared at him. 'You're serious?' Vaun asked.

'Yes Ma'am' Franks replied. 'Wing Commander Defoe already suggested that we equip the new Kirghiz jumpfighters we intend to put into production with Laser Anti-Missile-Systems so we should be able to crank them out relatively cheaply as a long production run and also add them in number to all our other ships plus _Pegasus_' he said. 'Giving _Galactica_that much additional punch would enable her to pull her weight more in a capital-ship fight and I doubt the Colonials would say no to the deal.'

'I think they're getting the better end of it' Vaun remarked.

'With respect Lord Protector I don't know if they will' Commander Thorpe spoke up. 'I would advise that we negotiate to mount one of the salvaged battlestar jump-drives on the _Zughoffer Weir_too' he said. 'The ability to tactical jump one of our battleships alone is worth its weight in germanium.'

'True' Franks agreed. 'Once both of the ships are fully re-fitted and operational again I would further suggest we go through the same process with _Bismark_ and _Pegasus_' he said. 'The Naval Lasers from the _Bismark_ don't have the firepower of the guns from _Zug_ but _Pegasus_already has a decent forward battery anyway, they'll just give her the ability to reach out further and hit even harder up close' the Admiral continued. 'I would contend we should convince the Colonials of the benefits to their own security by giving us jumpdrives we can fit to our Titan Class dropships turning them into light-carriers with interstellar range, and then subsequently do the same to our Leopard CV's.'

'It'll be a while before they can make new jumpdrives but they could strip them from civilian ships' Thorpe interjected. 'Their recovered production line for Raptor FTL's will take a couple of months to get going which should give us time to get our own factories churning out the new autocannon and laser AMS units in numbers' he said.

Franks nodded. 'We've already increased aerospace fighter production to wartime levels both to replace losses and increase our fighter strength' he noted. 'This will require a reduction in battlemech production rates so our second brigade will have to soldier on with just the Pulverizer I for a while I'm afraid.'

'I'm not a mechwarrior but I can see a certain Brigadier General being a little annoyed he won't be getting his Pulverizer II's for a while yet' Colonel McEvedy remarked. Although the armaments industry of New Circe was large to the point of being excessive all that plant and machinery was usually run at peacetime low-production rates, though ready to step-up when required. It would have been years anyway before there were enough of the new model assault mechs to equip all three brigades of the 331st and if workers and materials were now going to be moved to fighter production it would be even longer.

'We might also want to consider adding another fighter to our inventory' Franks suggested. 'We've had the plans for the Clan Avar Light Fighter for as long as we've had those for the Kirghiz, we just never put them into production' he said. 'It's a thirty-five ton design and is faster and more manoeuvrable than even the Visigoth mediums we employ, let alone the Kirghiz itself' he continued. 'I wouldn't advise shutting down the existing lines but instead starting another for producing this cheaper less resource-intensive design that's more suited for dogfighting Raiders' he continued. 'We could also offer it to the Colonials, it's still over three times the mass of a Viper but it's more like their idea of a fighter and a longer production run would lower unit costs.'

'What do you think Wing Commander?' Vaun asked Defoe. 'You've flown against the Cylons.'

'Even a light fighter design like the Avar won't handle nearly as well as a Viper or a Raider, but there were plenty of times I wished I was flying something that wasn't so damn easy for the Raiders to out-turn Ma'am' Defoe replied honestly. 'Also an aircraft that can pull seven and a half gees of acceleration on overthrust like the Avar would be a bitch for the Toasters to deal with in a lot of situations' she said. 'They had trouble with the twenty-ton Tridents for that reason and the Avar isn't that much slower' she continued. 'If I can add another advantage, the Avar might also be light enough for the FTL from a Cylon Heavy Raider to be mounted, if we can get the ones we salvaged to work that is' the pilot suggested. 'I think that capability on a bird that fast would drive the toaster's insane trying to counter it.'

'The Cylon FTL drive is better than the Colonial in terms of compactness, range and fuel efficiency' Thorpe noted. 'The problem is more likely to be the navigation computer rather than the jump-drive itself though' he warned.

Lord Protector Vaun looked around the room at her cabinet. 'We'll discuss these proposals further after lunch' she decided. 'We've already won a great victory over the enemies of humanity but this will clearly not be a short war and now we're in it up to our vibro-bayonets we need to start planning and preparing for how we are going to prosecute it long-term' she said. 'If you want to know my policy then it's very simple' she said. 'I intend to make war on the Cylons from now until ultimate victory' she declared before lowering her head as if in prayer. 'God preserve the Star League in Exile' she said in a reverent tone before looking up again. 'And death to the enemies of the Clan' she thundered.

'Seyla' everyone in the room intoned.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – Deep Space – 3045CE**

Sometimes you might really be enjoying your job but shouldn't let it show on your face and for Staff Sergeant Hadrian, Master-At-Arms on _Galactica_, this was one of those times. 'Colonel Tigh you were ordered to report for screening' she told the XO as she stepped onto the CIC followed by a pair of Marines in battle gear.

'I'm busy, the Old Man is away so I'm doing his job _and_mine' Tigh responded. 'I'll come get my head looked at later' he said.

'Colonel with all refugees now screened you know we have to run every one of the crew through the new Cylon Detector technology as well' Hadrian told him.

'Staff Sergeant I'm not a frakking Toaster' Tigh responded. 'I'm just a very busy human' he stated, starting to get annoyed.

'The orders come from the Admiral himself Sir, every officer and enlisted man must come when they are called or they _will_be fetched' Hadrian persisted.

'Don't make me repeat myself Staff-Sergeant' Tigh told her.

'Colonel Tigh, you will accompany us right now or I will order these marines to drag you off the CIC if necessary' Hadrian told him, putting her hand on her holster. 'As per the Admiral's orders I can shoot you if you resist' she added seriously.

Everyone on the CIC stared at Hadrian. 'You're serious' Tigh asked, with a half smile.

'Yes Sir' Hadrian replied evenly.

Tigh chuckled. 'I used to be an enlisted man Staff-Sergeant' he said. 'So what's it like to live the dream and be given a license to manhandle and threaten to shoot the XO?' he asked.

'Satisfying Sir' Hadrian replied honestly. 'Now are you going to come with us or am I going to have to kneecap you?'

'Mr Gaeta, the ship is yours until you have confirmation that I'm not a Cylon' Tigh told him. 'Lead on Staff Sergeant' he told Hadrian. 'You _would_have shot me right?' he asked her quietly.

'Yes Sir' Hadrian confirmed.

'Good' Tigh replied. A good senior non-com doesn't take any crap from anyone, he thought, they just do their duty. Some lieutenant just out of high-school leading the detail might have backed down but Hadrian wasn't about to get brow-beaten. The Admiral was the closest thing to a Lord of Kobol on this boat and his commandments overrode any minor deity like the XO.

As they headed for where the Wolverine techs had set up their equipment Tigh was still smiling. 'So found any skinjobs yet?' he asked in amusement.

'No Sir, several false positives so far though' Hadrian told him. 'Anyone that shows as a possible gets a gun put against their head, they're handcuffed and taken for a brainscan' she said. 'From what I can tell the neurohelmets react pretty much the same to certain defects or injuries in the human brain as they do to Cylons' she said. 'If you're human but not quite right in the head and _that's_what's causing the thing to say "Toaster" they can tell with a MRI.'

'Not quite right in the head you say?' Tigh responded. 'So these false positives... Marines were they?' he asked wryly.

Hadrian smirked. 'So far of the four false positives among the ship's crew one was a cook, one was a maintenance engineer and the other two were Viper pilots' she said.

Damn, Tigh thought, that joke had backfired. 'Tested the CAG yet?' he asked.

'She was one of the false positives' Hadrian told him.

Tigh fought back a grin, that was great, he thought. Kara Thrace really _was_ defective upstairs just like he always maintained. He certainly never thought she might be a skinjob, her lunacy and lack of discipline _had_ to be human in nature, _nobody_would make Starbuck on purpose. 'Is this going to take long?' he queried.

'Not too long Sir' Hadrian told him.

'Had any trouble getting people other than me to submit to the test?' Tigh queried.

'We had some trouble with a group of the civilian refugees but they gave up in the end' Hadrian replied.

'Threaten to shoot them?' Tigh wondered.

'No Sir, I borrowed a squad of Wolvie Infantry in Powered Armour and they just stood there looking intimidating until the civvies became more cooperative' Hadrian explained. 'They had this idea that the Thirteenth could actually read their minds with the gear, learn all their personal secrets, but I sort of gave them the impression that if the Wolvies _really_wanted to know their secrets they'd just beat it out of them anyway.'

'Creative' Tigh said appreciatively, those Nighthawk suits made Centurions look small and inoffensive by comparison. 'You know the Old Man passed this test' he noted.

'Yes Sir' Hadrian replied.

'Back when we first met I'll bet the Toasters were still years away from making a convincing skinjob' Tigh remarked. 'Let alone one that aged' he added.

'Sorry Sir, no exemptions' Hadrian replied. 'We've no idea if cylon infiltrators can mimic male pattern baldness' she said.

'I meant it didn't used to be frakking grey' Tigh growled as they arrived at their destination.

Sitting in the chair they had placed next to the equipment Tigh hadn't been expecting to have Hadrian's service automatic pressed against his skull as soon as the neurohelmet was lifted off but when he realised he had flunked the test he sighed resignedly. 'Okay, take me to the frakking scanner' he said as the two other marines pointed their rifles at him.

'SOP I'm afraid Sir' Hadrian apologised as she took the gun muzzle from against his head and put him in handcuffs.

'I know Staff-Sergeant, can someone tell the CIC that I'm going to be delayed a while longer' he requested. This was probably down to the damn drinking he knew, all those braincells he had killed off over the years had turned his mind into mush. Tigh already knew his memory wasn't as good as it used to be and now he was apparently so frakked-up his brain didn't even register as being gods-damned human. 'That's it, I'm going on the wagon' he muttered to himself as they escorted him to Doctor Cottle and his MRI machine.

Saul Tigh had been chained to a bulkhead in the brig for two hours bellowing at the top of his lungs that he wasn't a "gods-damned toaster" when the door opened but instead of the release and apology he expected instead four marines dragged in a very angry Chief Tyrol and threw him into the next cell in handcuffs. 'This is a frakking mistake' Tyrol yelled at the marines as they slammed the cell door shut and then left.

Tigh looked at the Chief. 'You too huh?' he asked sympathetically.

'I'm not a Cylon Sir' Tyrol told him.

'I believe you' Tigh responded, rattling his chains. 'Don't worry Chief, the Old Man will get me out of here and if they can frak up enough to put _me_in here I guess they screwed up your test too' he said.

Tyrol sat down on the bunk in his cell. 'It's Baltar's frakked up excuse for a skinjob detector all over again' he said. 'If there _were_any cylons on the ship they've probably shown up as human' he complained.

'So much for the Thirteenth and their kick-ass high-technology' Tigh sarcastically observed.

'They'll be making jokes about me being a cylon for months' Tyrol complained. 'The worst thing is some people will probably still think I _am_, just like they did after Boomer' he groaned before he blinked and then inexplicably burst out laughing.

'What the hell are you happy about?' Tigh asked him incredulously.

Tyrol fought it down. 'You know I went for counselling sessions with that skinjob pretending to be a priest' he said. 'Well I was so frakked up and depressed I thought I might be a cylon but he told me that I couldn't be because _he_was a cylon and he'd never seen me at the meetings' he said before laughing again. 'I thought he was making a joke, which he was but not exactly the one I thought.'

Tigh started laughing too. 'Probably the only time the son-of-a-bitch was telling the truth' he said. 'So did he mention me being at the meetings?' he asked.

'No, I never thought to ask who the club members were' Tyrol replied.

'Pity' Tigh responded as Tyrol sat down and tried to make himself half-way comfortable.

They were still intermittently laughing to themselves when Sam Anders was dragged in, struggling against two marines and an SLDF infantryman and with what looked like a black eye forming. 'Anders stop being an ass and calm down' Tigh told him loudly. 'It'll all be sorted out by Adama trust me' he said as the Pyramid Player was forcibly handcuffed to the bars of a cell.

Twelve hours later nobody else had been carted in and the three of them had been theorising. 'So _you_ think it's the booze in your case Sir and _you_think you got hit on the head too many times over the years?' Tyrol asked Anders.

'Do you know how many times I've been knocked senseless playing or training' Anders asked rhetorically. 'It's enough that I couldn't even make a decent guess.'

'So what's your excuse Chief?' Tigh asked the engineer, intrigued.

Tyrol looked embarrassed. 'I think I suffer from clinical depression, maybe something more serious' he admitted.

'Oh great, the guy that fixes my girlfriend's Viper is a frakking loon' Anders observed with a grin.

'Frak you Mr Brain Damage' Tyrol retorted. 'It might be all the tylium fumes I've inhaled too' he also theorised.

'Just as long as you weren't drinking it like the Colonel here would' Anders joked.

Tigh glared at him for a moment then chuckled. 'Goes down smooth but the hangover the next day is a bitch and if you fart you'll end up back in the Prolmar Sector' he declared, causing the other two suspected cylons to crack up laughing.

'They haven't stopped our pay have they Sir?' Tyrol asked Tigh once the laughter eventually subsided.

'They don't stop your pay for being a Toaster, they throw you out of the airlock Chief' Tigh replied. 'Get your priorities straight' he advised.

'But if they _have_stopped our pay we'll get it back once the Admiral sorts this crap out?' Tyrol checked.

'You're gods-damned right they will' Tigh responded. 'Ellen has probably already spent my next six months salary already' he complained.

'Yeah that's a point, if she was married to a Cylon that long wouldn't she have found the serial number stamped on your ass by now?' Anders joked.

'Well Starbuck never found _yours_toaster-boy' Tigh retorted. 'You know I always thought that you threw too well to be a human' he said.

'You're from Aerilon, so you wouldn't know this, but not every Colony has people that play pyramid as badly as yours' Anders replied with a smirk.

'We used to have the best team in the league but _they_all volunteered to fight in the First Cylon War so we lost a whole generation of players and future coaches' Tigh responded. 'Didn't see many of the Caprica Buccaneers in uniform forty years ago' he added.

'I wasn't even _alive_that long ago' Anders replied.

'Right, but as for me I was out there killing Toasters back then too... WHICH IS IN MY FRAKKING SERVICE RECORDS' he yelled out for the benefit of anyone listening.

'I'm not sure if this mess is funny or insane' Tyrol stated.

'Why can't it be both?' Anders asked rhetorically.

'Good point' Tyrol conceded.

'I _always_get my points' Anders declared.

Tyrol narrowed his eyes. 'You're talking to a man who had money on you against Leonis in the semi-finals' he said. 'And you _know_the game I mean' he added.

Anders flinched. 'Sorry about that' he apologised, 'I hope it wasn't too much' he said.

'It was enough' Tyrol told him curtly. 'Do you think they'd give us a deck of cards or something if we ask, Colonel?' he asked Tigh.

'They'd better because they know when I get out of here I'm not going to be in a very good mood' Tigh responded. 'I'm just glad that you're in here as well so Thrace is probably too distracted to do all the things I'd normally expect her to with the Admiral away and me in a frakking cell' he said to Anders.

'I'm surprised she hasn't tried to spring us' Anders joked. 'A jailbreak would be a lot of fun.'

'Maybe she hates me more than she loves you' Tigh suggested.

'Fortunately I know how much she hates you so I'm fine with that' Anders replied with a grin.

'Everyone hates the XO' Tigh replied, 'if they don't he's not doing his job' he opined. 'They're probably partying on every deck right now' he muttered.

'Yeah' Tyrol agreed, 'except on the flight-pods' he said.

'You think your knuckle-draggers care about you that much Chief?' Tigh asked.

'No they'll all be too busy making up the jokes I'll have to live with the rest of my career' Tyrol replied. 'You're closer to retirement Sir' he reminded the Colonel. 'I could still be finding notes stuck to my back saying I'm a toaster in twenty years time.'

'You know I never knew how juvenile the military could be before I spent all this time on _Galactica_' Anders told them. 'The stories I heard from Kara' he said, rolling his eyes.

Tigh leaned back against a bulkhead and snorted in derision. 'Forget anything she ever did, total amateurism' he said. 'Let me tell you about the practical joke Bill Adama and I once played on a Major in the Marines about fifteen years back' he began. 'THIS _WON'T_ BE IN MY SERVICE RECORD WHICH IS WHY I MADE COLONEL' he called out loudly before continuing.

* * *

_**Note from the Author:**_

_If it hadn't been for the computer virus attacks, based on what we saw of Colonial Battlestars they were much more effective capital warships than what the Cylons used and even old Viper II's with relatively inexperienced pilots dished out far more damage to the new model Cylon Raiders than they took. Galactica was an older less capable design which we found out later in the series wasn't even built to spec (probably rushed war-time production). I can only assume that a fleet of fully operational Mercury Class ships like Pegasus each carrying ten squadrons of Viper VII's would have been more than a match for at least twice that number of Basestars, probably more._

_The Avar is a Light Aerospace fighter introduced into service in 2878 making it a little long-in-the-tooth for a Clan fighter but it's still in service with them by 3045 and the best fighter of its size available to the Wolverines. Just over a third the tonnage of the Kirghiz it's much cheaper to build and compared to Raiders it's still a flying tank. Eight Heavy NPPC's would give Galactica a lot more firepower but still leaves the Wolverine Flgship with a very creditable forty of them. The addition of Colonial point-defence is a must once the Cylons adjust tactics because SLDF capital ships are not well armed against massed fighter attacks or missile spam._

_Marine Staff Sergeant Hadrian was the Master-At-Arms on Galactica responsible for internal security. It's likely she would have been put in charge of the screening program._


	16. Chapter 15

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Is a democracy truly compatible with what amounts to a military caste in all but name? Plato feared that even in his ideal Republic that his proposed Auxiliaries, the warrior elite tasked with protecting the state, might come to dominate society at the expense of the rest of the citizenry. Have we avoided this by simply blurring the dividing line between the Auxiliary, Guardian and Producer classes to the point where the categorisation and subdivision becomes largely meaningless? Fundmentally the question is this: are we a nation with an army or are we an army with a nation?_

_**New Circe: Athens led by Leonidas or Sparta led by Pericles? **_**: McEvedy City Press – 3048 CE**

* * *

******Colonial City State - New Circe – 3045CE**

Media frenzy might have been an adequate description right up until the moment that the President's aide was spotted being carted off in handcuffs, after that it was more akin to media chaos, a situation badly exacerbated by the fact Tory Foster herself was the person that Roslin had usually relied upon to keep the vultures of the press at bay.

As soon as the HPG message arrived stated that three more suspected Cylon infiltrators had been found, naming them as both the Executive Officer and the Chief Engineer of _Galactica_, plus the former leader of the resistance on Caprica, who also happened to be a celebrity sports star, things had gotten badly out of hand. Given that one of the trio was known to have once been in a relationship with the Eight known as Boomer anyone else with known associations with the three was immediately flagged up as another possible Cylon agent and was subject to screening as a matter of high priority. This had then led to Ellen Tigh being thrown into a cell, vehemently professing her innocence and screeching that either Bill Adama or that bitch Roslin must be behind this farce.

The Quorum had gone insane, almost literally to Roslin's mind as accusations and fears of "Bots under the cots" reached a fever pitch. In order to try and reassure both them and the public she had requested all senior government officials who hadn't yet been screened to be checked at once, hoping this would at least restore faith in the authorities, which it might have done if Tory Foster hadn't set off the detector and then failed the MRI check.

A proposal to set up a "Quorum UnColonial Activities Committee" was passed unanimously under the Chairmanship of Tom Zarek who had called for its establishment. It was to investigate the possible depth of Cylon infiltration of the highest echelons of both the military and the Executive branch and what damage may have resulted.

Admiral Adama flatly denied the possibility that his old friend could be a Cylon, even once presented with the results he insisted they were double, triple and finally quadruple checked before starting to accept that it could be true... whereupon he drank himself stupid and had to be brought back to a useful state by his son who threw him bodily into the shower fully clothed and turned on the water.

With the public now understandably panicked and wary of the political and military institutions they might have ordinarily turned towards the security blanket of religious faith, but unfortunately all the revelations about Kobol were spilling into the public domain at the same time. The Sacred Scrolls were wrong, humanity _didn't_come from Kobol and it seemed that the New Circe people were right about their ancestors evolving on Earth and then somehow ending up on Kobol between four and a half and five-thousand years before. How that had happened was still a complete mystery, although the "Atlantis Theory" was gaining ground for the lack of any other, but regardless of the means the evidence was conclusive to anyone that chose not to ignore it.

Some people _did_choose to simply ignore it of course, the Gemonese and Sagitarons in particular refused to believe science over religion and declared that the Thirteenth were either liars or that the supposed proof was nothing of the sort. Some religious zealots even claimed that the Lords of Kobol must have planted false evidence to test the faith of their children and that the destruction of the Colonies was the pre-emptive wrath of the Gods for this abandonment of belief.

As the Colonial City-State seemed to be heading for near collapse Lord Protector Vaun ordered a quiet mobilisation of the 1st Brigade of the 331st, ready to intervene if the situation became violent and out of control. Fortunately for her conscience and the lives that might have been lost in that scenario President Laura Roslin was not about to allow the remains of Colonial civilisation to fall on her watch and she turned to the man she thought could save it, a man who fortunately for her was now wringing wet and being forced to drink an unhealthy quantity of the hot beverage they called coffee by his son.

When Roslin entered the temporary Quorum chamber she was greeted by howls of indignation and an enraged Tom Zarek who glared at her. 'You've declared martial law' he yelled at the President as she walked in with Commander Lee Adama at her side.

'I've no idea what you mean?' Roslin responded in mock confusion.

'Marines from _Galactica_ and _Pegasus_started arriving on the streets two hours ago in full battle gear' Zarek said accusingly. 'They're breaking up crowds and demonstrations as we speak' he said.

'Oh no, you completely misread the situation Tom' Roslin replied, 'I can see how you might but they're not there to enforce martial law, they're implementing the request of the Quorum' she told them.

'_What_?' Zarek responded incredulously.

'The Quorum wanted a victory parade, you all voted for one after our recent defeats of the Cylons' she reminded them. The troops are just practicing for that and checking which of the various planned routes for their triumphal march through the city would be best' she explained sweetly.

Tom Zarek blinked. 'You don't really expect anyone to buy that do you?' he asked. 'They've got fixed bayonets!' he exclaimed.

'Actually marching in a victory parade with fixed bayonets _is_traditional' Lee Adama spoke up. 'It's something the Colonial Marines adopted from the Virgonian Royal Marines.'

'There are tanks in the main square and Vipers buzzing the city' Zarek growled in response.

'As for the Vipers they're practicing for an air-show and regarding the tanks Admiral Adama thought it would be a nice gesture to have the SLDF soldiers who fought the Centurions on Aquaria join the parade' Roslin told him. 'Those were the tanks which were involved in that battle, I guess they wanted to make sure the route was suitable for them, they _are_rather big and heavy I'm told.'

'You've allowed foreign troops under arms onto our soil' Zarek practically spat at Roslin.

'They don't have any ammunition as far as I know?' the President replied, turning to Lee for verification.

'No Ma'am, no ammunition for their machineguns or rocket launchers, and their lasers are deactivated for safeties sake' Lee Adama confirmed. They were of course still armour-plated and weighed thirty-five tons each, making them visually intimidating and good for smashing through barricades if necessary he thought to himself.

'The quorum demands that the military be removed from the city' Zarek insisted.

'I hadn't heard that, when was the vote to hold the parade rescinded?' Roslin inquired.

'I cannot believe you are persisting in that ridiculous sham that this situation is anything but you using the military to stay in power' Zarek responded.

'If you'd remember it was the military that forced _me_out of power once and the only person to introduce martial law since we fled the Twelve Colonies was a man we now know to be a Cylon, and who incidentally threw me in a cell if you'd also recall' Roslin replied. 'If the Quorum has changed its mind on the victory parade I'm sure the Marines can be ordered back to their barracks or whatever?' she checked with Lee, who nodded.

Robin Wenutu the representative for Canceron stood up. 'I for one am not sure if perhaps leaving a few Marines to maintain public order might not be a good thing' she said.

'I agree, it's anarchy out there' Miksa Burion, the delegate for Tauron agreed. 'Our police force is still not up to full strength and could surely use the help?'

Zarek rounded on them. 'She hasn't put armed soldiers on the streets to protect the people, it's to protect herself' he snarled.

'No it's for a parade' Roslin persisted, somehow managing to sound not entirely insincere.

'Can we even trust the military given that we found two Cylons amongst them?' Marshall Bagot of Virgon asked.

'Everyone that was on _Pegasus_ has already been cleared and they're checking the last few on _Galactica_now' Lee Adama spoke up. 'It's the civilians out there that might still have a few Cylons amongst them, there are still something like thirty-five thousand to screen' he noted.

'Another good reason to have Marines in place in the city' Robin Wenutu said. 'If not enforcing martial law then perhaps as police auxiliaries?' she suggested.

'We _did_previously experience a Cylon bombing campaign orchestrated by infiltrators in the fleet' Sarah Porter of Gemenon recalled nervously. 'If any additional spies think they are shortly to be discovered they might resort to terrorist attacks.'

'Too many of our people have died already, we must guarantee their security' Marshall Bagot agreed.

'I see where this is going' Zarek declared, 'the Quorum would have never agreed to putting Roslin-Loyalist Storm-Troopers on the streets under the command of Adama's Junior and Senior but now they're there it's a lot easier to get it accepted for them to stay' he said, glaring at the President.

'Victory Parade preparations' Roslin insisted, letting herself smirk for a second.

Lee Adama watched and listened as the Quorum argued amongst themselves. A few hundred Marines carefully ordered to take a mild-mannered approach to maintaining public order should keep a lid on things until everything calmed down and people started thinking rationally again.

It was surprising how many good ideas his father had when involuntarily sobering up, maybe it was a moment of clarity when you got sprayed with ice-cold water or something Lee thought to himself, it was a good thing they weren't really holding a parade though because the old man still looked like shit.

* * *

**SLDF Bunker Complex – New Circe – 3045CE**

'And we trust the Cylons?' Lord Protector Vaun asked doubtfully as she walked beside Commander Thorpe towards the elevator that would take them to the lower levels of the facility.

'That would be stretching things too far Lord Protector' Thorpe replied, 'they did however seem just as shocked as the Colonials for the most part' he told her. 'Bondswoman Sharon Valerii insisted that we must have got it wrong about Chief Tyrol in fact and the notion that Colonel Tigh could be a Cylon was treated... sceptically' he said.

As they reached the elevator the doors slid open and they stepped in. 'Are you sure you want to do this Ma'am?' Thorpe asked as they closed and the elevator started to descend.

'For the final time Commander, yes I'm sure' Vaun replied.

'I'm sure that the Joint-Chiefs would at least insist on them being chained' Thorpe told her, 'Major Nordenskiöld is equally adamant on the issue for that matter' he added.

'I want to talk to them myself in an environment where they aren't treated like rabid beasts' Vaun explained. 'Somehow I think the medieval torture-chamber setting invoked by chains would have a deleterious effect on that' she said. 'Besides which you _do_have your sidearm' she noted.

'Yes, but they're very fast' Thorpe muttered to himself.

As the elevator stopped and the doors opened again they were greeted by Major Nordenskiöld and four SLDF soldiers wearing Special-Forces insignia and carrying large-calibre sub-machineguns. 'Lord Protector' the Major greeted her after a salute. 'If you would care to follow me' she said, leading off down the corridor.

'I must say the notion that the Cylon's took Operational Security quite that far is astounding' Vaun remarked.

'Well we know that they deployed agents like the "Boomer" version of Sharon Valerii after wiping their memories, leaving a trigger behind to activate them when necessary' Thorpe replied. 'Even so I must agree that it takes a certain vision and determination to do what we assume they did with the long-term infiltrators we have discovered recently' he said.

'Your thoughts Major?' Vaun asked Nordenskiöld.

'Agents who don't _know_they're agents is an excellent idea if you can manage it' the Major replied. 'Presumably this "Final Five" of the supposed twelve models of human-form Cylons were programmed at a subconscious level to infiltrate the military and political infrastructure of Colonial society and gather intelligence' she theorised.

'That might explain Colonel Tigh, Chief Tyrol and Tory Foster but what of the other two?' Vaun queried.

'From what we know of Ellen Tigh she has the reputation, perhaps exaggerated, of having slept with a surprising proportion of the senior officers of the former Colonial Fleet' Nordenskiöld said. 'Female agents gathering intelligence in this manner is hardly unprecedented' she noted. 'Whilst Saul Tigh worked his way through the ranks gaining knowledge of the Fleet and its command structure, and as a senior military engineer Galen Tyrol learned everything there was to know about military equipment' the major continued, 'Ellen Tigh had access to another avenue of intelligence, with her husband actually introducing her to her targets at social engagements' she said.

'Tory Foster was also working her way up through the government bureaucracy' Thorpe interjected. If not for the Second Cylon War breaking out she might have ended up one of the most senior Civil Servants in the Executive Branch' he said. 'Politicians come and go at the whims of the electorate but bureaucrats are forever so it's actually a much better route to take in infiltrating the power structure' he stated. 'Just implant a few lines of code in her head that makes her want to take a government job and work really hard to get promotion, make sure she's good at her job and after a couple of decades you've got a mole at the highest echelons of government.'

'What about the sports star though?' Vaun asked.

'Well we know that the Cylons are stronger and faster than us so getting one to become a champion athlete shouldn't be hard, the others just didn't know their own inherent abilities' the Major replied. 'Think of Anders as being like one of the Solaris Champions, those people have ties to Corporate Sponsors, politicians and a host of media celebrities' she said. 'Fame is influence, Anders was the captain of the top sports team on the richest and most influential world in the Twelve Colonies' she pointed out, 'he was courted by the rich and powerful, went to all the best parties, knew all the right people... it's ingenious really, unorthodox perhaps but it's not such a bad place to position a spy when you think about it.'

Vaun nodded, made a certain sense she thought. 'But why conceal the identities of these five from the other Cylons?' she wondered.

'It guarantees complete security for one thing' Thorpe replied. 'We know that Cylons can be turned, or simply choose to change sides like Bondswoman Valerii, they're individuals not a true collective intelligence' he said. 'We also know they can be broken like the Six known as Gina' he continued, 'but if none of them know either who or where the "Final Five" are then they're safe.'

'Surely they were curious given that they still apparently know that there _were_five more models?' Vaun queried.

'It was forbidden to know, or seek to know, the identity of these other models' Nordenskiöld replied. 'The Cylons are superstitious, you simply add the mystery of the Final Five into their inherently mystical world-view, make it part of their faith' she said. 'It's not just a rule it's a _sin_' she said. 'One day some trigger will bring everything flooding back perhaps, give their agents a few decades to work and then everyone's memories snap back like they did with the one called Boomer.'

'The Toasters probably did it to themselves we think' Thorpe said. 'In some ways our theory here backs up the idea that they never originally intended to attack the Colonies when they did, subsequent events caused the Second Cylon War to start, or at least start sooner.'

Nordenskiöld nodded. 'My thoughts are that the Cylon plan was for the deep-cover agents to be given time to learn all they could, they would then regain their memories, report what they had learned and at that point the Cylons would decided whether or not to attack' she said. 'I don't think it would have been more than a few more years however, Colonel Tigh was approaching compulsory retirement age at which point his usefulness would have dropped considerably.'

Thorpe chuckled. 'The funny thing is that we now know that it was the Cylons that broke the Armistice first because they sent people over the border before the Colonial Fleet did' he said. 'However they didn't know that when they attacked the Twelve Colonies' he continued. 'This leads to the legal argument going on at the moment in the Gina Inviere case where they're trying to sort out if she perjured herself or not when she unknowingly lied about the recon craft from the Battlestar _Valkyrie_being the first border violation.'

'Well at least the Munchkins might feel better long-term if they think it wasn't them that broke the terms of the Cimtar Peace Accords first I guess, query affirmative?' Vaun wondered.

'Affirmative, but I think it'll be a while before they get over the notion that they've had skinjobs amongst them this long' Thorpe replied. 'Colonel Tigh seems to have been the first, followed slightly later by his "wife" with the others being quietly slotted into Colonial Society over the next few years' he said. 'Admiral Adama knew Saul Tigh since before Tory Foster and Samuel Anders would have been small children at most, so we think they were sent later.'

'How could they manage to pull it off though?' Vaun asked. 'Surely there were records to show they didn't exist before a certain date?' she continued as they arrived at the door the major indicated was their destination and chose to continue their conversation outside rather than going through straight away.

'Cylon cyber-warfare attacks destroyed almost all the computerised government records during the First Cylon War' Thorpe responded, 'what hard-copies that existed were often destroyed in the fighting' he continued. 'With all the chaos, all the refugees moving from world to world, and the general dumbing-down of Colonial Society in a technological sense post-war it was an ideal time to sneak spies into the Twelve Colonies' he said. 'A few faked records here and there with nothing to refute them and Saul Tigh becomes the last survivor of his unit, everyone that might have said "I didn't know that guy during the war" had been killed in action.'

'It took decades for the Colonies to get their shit back together, excuse my language Ma'am' Nordenskiöld apologised, 'they were extremely reliant on computers before the Cylon uprising, they had perhaps a little too much faith in technology and that hubris backfired causing their counter-reaction of an extreme luddite shift afterwards.'

'We obtained the designs for their abandoned Holoband VR technology whilst on Caprica' Thorpe told the Lord Protector before laughing, 'if you want an insight into how our society differs from the Colonials the first thing all our people thought of when they learned of the devices was "Advanced Military Simulators" whereas the first large-scale use of the Holobands in the Colonies was by the pornographic industry' he said in amusement.

Vaun smiled. 'Bet you a thousand in League Script that the _second_major use for it by ourselves will be porn too' she wagered.

'Well yeah, but for us it's violence first _then_sex Ma'am' Commander Thorpe responded.

'Anybody that looked at our predicted three and a half percent annual population growth for the next few decades might disagree Commander' Vaun replied, 'even allowing for the Iron Wombs' she added. 'Shall we go in then?' she asked.

Major Nordenskiöld opened the door and waved the soldiers in first before thinking to allow the Lord Protector into the lions den as it were, if she got killed Admiral Franks and the other Joint Chiefs would arrange something very unpleasant to happen to Nordenskiöld and Thorpe they both knew, even if this had been Vaun's idea.

Sat around in a semi-circle on wooden chairs a pair of fairly morose looking One's, a smirking Three and a pensive Eight had been waiting an hour so far for the "Royal Visit". Sharon Valerii, wearing SLDF fatigues without rank insignia, jumped to her feet and stood at attention when Vaun entered, either because of prior prompting or the memories of military indoctrination whilst D'anna Biers in plain civilian clothes merely crossed her arms and slouched.

'At ease Bondswoman' Vaun told Sharon, 'please sit down' she requested, taking a seat facing them herself. 'It's a pity the Six isn't here too' she said regretfully.

'Or the supposed Final Five' Biers responded in good English, they had all been learning the language of their captors and had picked it up faster than most humans which wasn't perhaps surprising.

'They're all in Colonial custody' Vaun noted, 'frankly in the circumstances I'm glad its all President Roslin's problem not mine' she said honestly.

'Why the frak are you here?' Biers asked.

'Watch your language in front of the Lord Protector prisoner' Nordenskiöld growled.

'Kiss my ass' the Three responded.

'It's a fair question' Vaun responded, 'I guess bullshit aside this is a "know your enemy" thing' she said. 'I wanted to look you all in the eyes, see what's there.'

'Just pathetic gelatinous orbs that we're forced to utilise in order to look human' a Cavil responded. 'Personally I want to be able to see gamma rays but I'm stuck with your sub-standard form, we should be the best machines we can be but instead we're copies of a severely limited race' he said regretfully.

'Limitations you are very well aware of yourselves hence all the efforts to improve yourselves through genetic engineering' the other "One" reminded Vaun.

'Considering how limited we are we've been doing a very good job of beating up on your people' Vaun replied, trying to get a bite out of them.

'But would you have been half as successful if we weren't modelled on the Colonials?' the first Cavil asked rhetorically. 'I think not' he said.

Vaun smiled. 'So what do you think of the other Cylons we've found?' she asked.

'No comment' Biers replied.

'As for me I'm freaked out by it although it would explain why the other me had such a thing for the Chief, maybe subconsciously we saw something kindred in each other' Sharon theorised.

'Did you see something kindred in Colonel Tigh too?' Vaun queried.

'No but he's a hard man to have positive thoughts about' Sharon replied. 'Maybe the fact he was always such an asshole got in the way?' she wondered.

Biers frowned. 'I had a reaction to him myself when I was investigating the story I did on the Gideon Massacre' she said. 'I assumed it was the alcoholic bastard factor but maybe there was something else to it?' she continued. 'You spent some time with Tyrol didn't you?' she asked one of the Cavils, 'when you were pretending to be a priest on _Galactica_' she reminded him. 'Did you get a Cylon vibe?'

'No' the Cavil concerned replied. 'Although maybe if he is really one of us his buried programming was the cause of his psychological problems' he reasoned. 'He actually did think he might be a Cylon but I told him he couldn't be because I hadn't seen him at any of the meetings' he said before laughing. 'It was funny at the time but it's just _priceless_ now' he declared. 'Maybe I just got the memories of the meetings we _were_at together mind-wiped?'

'Maybe you were friends?' Biers suggested.

Sharon raised her eyebrows. 'Maybe the Chief and Boomer were lovers as Cylons' she said.

'Or they were like brother and sister and all those implanted memories of being from that inbred Aerelon mining Colony Troy made her dig the incest thing' Biers joked.

'Frak you' Sharon replied, she had those false memories too.

'Sure thing... _Sister_' Biers replied with a grin.

Vaun laughed at the exchange, she had never really thought of the Cylons as having this much of a sense of humour but they clearly did. 'Do you think we can force your people to accept a new Armistice?' she asked. 'Would they keep to it?'

'Maybe and Maybe' Biers replied.

'Yes and no' Sharon disagreed.

The two Cavils looked at each other. 'Perhaps if you sent one or two of us back to our people as an act of good faith a diplomatic settlement could be reached' one of them said.

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, thought better of it then closed her eyes for a few seconds to think before opening them again. 'We know too much, if you reveal the location of New Circe to them the Cylons would turn the surface of your planet into radioactive glass' she said. 'You can't risk any of us getting back to our people' she said. 'If a Resurrection Ship looks like its ever getting close enough to be in download range you should prevent us from killing ourselves or each other until its gone again.'

'You traitorous bitch' a Cavil spat at the turncoat Eight.

'Easy now' Thorpe told him, reaching towards his holster as the Special Forces personnel less than surreptitiously raised their own weapons ready to cut any Cylon in half with bullets if need be.

Vaun pursed her lips. 'Bondholder do you vouch for this woman?' she asked Thorpe, indicating Sharon.

'I've seen no reason yet not to Lord Protector' Thorpe replied.

'Interesting' Vaun said thoughtfully, 'have you got a knife?' she asked him.

'Of course' Thorpe replied, producing a penknife from a pocket on his uniform.

'Go ahead then' Vaun told him.

Major Nordenskiöld looked surprised but it wasn't her place to question the Lord Protector. 'Come here Bondswoman Valerii' Thorpe told the Eight.

Sharon got back up off her chair and headed towards Thorpe, going past Vaun close enough that she could have easily grabbed her and broken her neck before anyone could have stopped her. The Eight stopped in front of Thorpe who took the wrist with the Bondcord on it and cut it off with his knife. 'You're free' he told her.

'Free?' Sharon repeated in shock.

'You can take your daughter and leave' Vaun told her. 'We can't let you return to the Cylons for obvious reasons but you can go live in the Colonial City State if you wish' she said.

'I can't go there, I'm a Cylon, my little girl is half Cylon' Sharon responded.

'Well there's another option of course but it has its own downsides' Thorpe said. 'This is New Circe, Citizenship means Service' he said, quoting the standard letter delivered to every person on the occasion of their eighteenth birthday.

'Do you want to be a Citizen of New Circe and a full member of the Clan?' Vaun asked. 'If so keep in mind that we conscript all citizens so for at least the next two years of your life you'll still be wearing much the same as you are now and you'll still be living on a military base.'

'And my daughter?' Sharon asked.

'Well she's a little young right now but we'll draft her sorry ass when she hits eighteen as well, that's how it works' Commander Thorpe told her.

'They'll never think of you as anything but a machine' a Cavil stated. 'They're just using you.'

'And if I say no I can just walk out that door?' Sharon checked.

'Yes' Vaun told her.

Sharon took a deep breath. 'They obey their laws' she said quietly. 'I want to be a citizen of New Circe' she told the Lord Protector. 'If you need another pilot in the SLDF you've got one... but I'll need a new call-sign' she continued. 'I can't go by Boomer... I'm not her.'

'I think we can come up with something' Thorpe told her, maybe a name from the Greek pantheon he wondered. Her daughter was named Hera after all.

* * *

**Colonial City State - New Circe – 3045CE**

Kara had been ordered to go on leave, it was clear her head wasn't straight and you couldn't have a fighter-pilot in that state, let alone a CAG, so she had been basically forced onto the next Raptor heading for New Circe and was now propping up the bar at one of the seedier joints in the still expanding city.

Kara held up the glass of clear liquid that purported to not be cleaning fluid and downed it in one gulp. 'He can't be a Cylon, how could I not know I was frakking a Cylon?' she asked then remembered her company. 'Okay, maybe I was too hard on you before' she apologised to Helo.

Karl Agathon downed his own drink, he had met her at the landing pad and knowing her dragged her straight to the closest disreputable drinking establishment. 'There's no way to tell... assuming that he didn't have that glowing spine thing?'

'I wasn't looking out for it but I'm pretty sure not' Starbuck replied. 'Two more here' she said loudly, placing a banknote on the bar and putting her empty glas on top of it. 'Make them doubles' she told the barman. 'Frak it, leave the bottle' she changed her mind.

This wasn't exactly the first time Kara's frakked-up love-life had led to Helo being in a bar looking forward to waking up somewhere he didn't know with a hangover. All that crap with the two Adama boys had probably taken ten years off his life expectancy, unless the Wolvies were serious that they could grow you a new liver. 'How could _he_not know?' Starbuck asked.

'Boomer didn't' Helo reminded her. 'I've talked to Sharon, my Sharon, about this stuff plenty of times' he said.

'Gods, at least he didn't knock me up' Kara realised gratefully.

'Well our half-toaster kids could have gone to school together if he had' Helo couldn't resist replying earning a punch on the arm in response. 'Anyhow I'll bet most of the _Galactica_ pilots would have expected you to knock _him_up' he continued unabated, getting a second much harder thump for that one followed by Starbuck laughing and pouring both of them another drink.

Kara looked thoughtful. 'Hey I wonder if Toaster-Tigh is suffering from the DT's because I bet they're keeping him dry in there?' she asked rhetorically.

'What's the talk on the ship about the XO being a Cylon anyway?' Helo queried.

'There was a very slight increase in the number of people that wanted him thrown out of an airlock' Starbuck replied. 'It's up at around a hundred percent now' she said.

'I've got to admit, mean, cranky drunken balding guy is a great cover' Helo decided.

'Yeah, I thought that too at first but now I think that if he was programmed to be that much of asshole it makes more sense' Kara replied. 'The Chief though, I always liked the Chief even when we were yelling at each other, he was good at his job and looked after his people' she said. 'Think that could be programming too?' she asked.

'He could just _be_a basically nice guy deep down' Karl replied, taking up his drink. 'The Cylons made so much effort in making the skinjobs like us I think they frakked up and made some of them more human than they ever intended.'

Starbuck frowned. 'So maybe Sam is really an okay guy? I fell for a genuine okay guy... who just wasn't genuinely, you know, a guy.'

'I thought it was just Sharon at first, that she was the freak "human" one' Helo responded, 'but I got to know Gina too, I don't know if it's because she's "broken" upstairs but she's sort of vulnerable and she seemed to love playing with Hera.'

'You let that murdering saboteur near your daughter?' Kara asked in surprise.

Helo downed his drink. 'Not at first, Sharon was too frightened, but we did eventually' he said. 'So what was it like back home?' he asked.

'You were there after the bombing Karl, the Colonies are an irradiated mess' Starbuck replied.

'Kill lots of Raiders did you?' Helo queried.

Kara grinned. 'Lasers are frakking great' she said. 'Zap, dead toaster, recharge, zap, another dead toaster.'

'So it doesn't take all the fun out of it?' Karl asked.

'Not when there's another thousand of the frakkers after the first couple it doesn't' Starbuck replied, finishing her drink and pouring them both another.

Karl took his refreshed glass. 'Doesn't get boring then?' he queried.

'Well they're trying to kill you too, concentrates the mind, keeps your eye on the pyramid ball' Kara responded. 'Same rush of adrenaline as ever, you just get to kill more Cylons' she said. 'You're trying to take my mind off Sam aren't you?' she asked knowingly.

'Yes, drinking and talking about shooting up Raiders trumps everything in Kara Thrace's mind in my experience' Helo replied. 'Remember, I _know_you' he said.

'You're a good friend Karl' Starbuck told him seriously.

'Oh Gods, we're a bottle short of where you usually are when you get all friendly and want to hug and tell me what a good friend I am' Karl complained. 'Does this mean the singing is going to start earlier than normal too?'

'Maybe' Kara replied with a grin, 'I could start taking off my clothes too.'

'I'm not defending your honour from horny drunkards again' Helo stated flatly.

Starbuck laughed. 'I defended _your_honour from that slut on Picon and her friend didn't I?' she asked.

'And I've never forgiven you for that' Karl Agathon replied bitterly. 'I could have ended up in bed with two chicks but, _oh no_, I ended the evening holding your hair out of the way while you threw up in someone's front yard' he complained.

'That's why I started wearing it shorter' Kara replied. 'I could have set you up with two girls I knew if you'd said that was something you wanted to try by the way' she told him.

Helo blinked. 'Okay two questions' he said, 'firstly why the frak would you think it _wouldn't_ be something I'd want to try and secondly why would you tell me this _now_ when those girls are thousands of light-years away and _dead_?' he asked. 'Are you some kind of frakking sadist?'

'My bad' Kara conceded before a wry smile appeared. 'So given that your girlfriend probably has thousands of identical twin sisters have you suggested the possibility of maybe inviting one or two of them to join you both for fun time?' she asked.

Karl fixed her with a look. 'Do you know how easily she can break my neck?' he asked rhetorically.

'I'll take that as a no then' Starbuck decided.

'So if there's more than one Sam Anders around, a few spares on a Resurrection Ship somewhere maybe, are you going to suggest it to him?' Helo asked sarcastically.

'I hadn't thought of it' Kara replied. 'But I might now.'

Karl sighed. 'If you do visit him in his cell don't start the conversation with that' he advised. 'Oh and bring a cake.'

'With a file in it, so he can bust out?' Starbuck queried.

'No, Sharon always asked me to bring a cake because the food in the brig sucked and there was no way I'd have been allowed to bring her beer to cheer her up' Helo explained.

* * *

**_Note from the Author:_**

_I couldn't see all those revelations at once, the truth about Kobol and the discovery of the Final Five in their midst not causing a titanic upset in Colonial Society. Given what we saw of them in the show I imagined it would all lead to chaos and possible violence as well as a general breakdown in the people's faith in their military, their government and their religion. Simply declaring martial law might have shattered it all irrevocably but this way Roslin gets troops on the streets to keep things calm without having to deal with nearly as much grief from the Quorum. In time everyone will calm down and behave more rationally, especially given that no more Cylons are going to show up during the screening program. William Adama did react pretty much that way in the show to the news that his oldest and best friend was a Cylon incidentally, he did snap out of it fairly quickly though. Still much aftermath to deal with of course, just not a Wolverine invasion!_

_They would have tried to come up with a rational explanation for the Final Five (actually this one might make rather more sense than the canon truth to be honest). The fully immersive VR Holoband technology is featured in the nBSG prequel "Caprica", it was very advanced and could have a lot of applications (the Colonials used it for hedonism and pornography but I saw the Wolverines as thinking "Military Applications" first... because they're weird!)._

_Helo and Starbuck being old and firm friends was a feature of the show, the two actors deliberately played it that way. The fact that Helo had been through a similar thing "Oh gods I frakked a toaster" also helps._


	17. Chapter 16

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_The Thirteenth believe that they long abandoned the worship of the Lords of Kobol but the continuing influence of the Gods upon them is self-evident. Their days and months are still named for what they dismissively call "Pagan" deities, they pilot battlemechs called Mercury, their warships carry weapons known as Zeus and they even gave the name Circe to their world. They may not believe in the Lords of Kobol but it is clear that despite their atheism that the Lords of Kobol still believe in them." _

_**Sister Tivenan – Religious thought for the Day, City-State Wireless Network - 3046CE**_

* * *

******Cale Family Farm – New Circe – 3045CE**

It hadn't fully sunk in just how large families could be on New Circe until hordes of her husband's uncles, aunts and cousins began arriving for what seemed to be an annual tradition of many, _many_Cale's converging on the old family farm for what they called the "Christmas Holidays".

Unfortunately the usually shy Cally was currently the only pregnant female in the extended family which meant that as well as being instantly the centre of attention for being both a Colonial and a new member of the group she was also subject to an unending series of Cales who were constantly giving her hugs and wanting to touch her now extremely impressive bump.

Cally took another piece of the hard toffee they called Knäck from a proffered tray, it was supposed to be a traditional Christmas treat and everyone seemed to be eating it, especially the children. Although purportedly a religious holiday to Cally's relief it all seemed to be very secular and much based around eating and drinking and giving each other presents rather than much worship of the single deity and his son that the Thirteenth believed in.

In a society where only having two or three children was considered a little odd her bump could at least be guaranteed to have plenty of cousins to play with growing up Cally decided, watching a few of them running around laughing and being warned not to knock anything over. Sitting on a couch next to Geoff, who had one arm around her shoulders and a glass full of something called "Glögg" in his free hand, Cally cuddled up to him and nibbled on the toffee as her mother-in-law tried to steer the general conversation away from the recently announced tax hike that Parliament had enacted to help fund the military build-up. It was certainly indicative of the basic weirdness of this society to her outsider's mind that as far as she could tell the consensus was the tax rise wasn't nearly enough and that a few of them were considering going to the capital and protesting about it.

There was in fact something very disturbing about a culture where people sang "Give war a chance" at demonstrations Cally decided, finishing her latest piece of Knäck.

The wireless signal from the City-State was still strong enough out here to pick up the transmission clearly enough and after her repeated attempts that morning to offer to help prepare dinner were rebuffed given she was due to drop in the next couple of weeks she had tuned in to hear what was going on over there. The big story for the Colonial Gang was that the five newly discovered "Cylon infiltrators" were in detention awaiting someone in authority to decide what to do with them. Cally couldn't quite believe that the Chief was a Toaster, but then she wouldn't have thought Boomer was either so maybe the Cylons really could make copies of people so perfect that they still had all the imperfections that made people human? The Quorum was coming in for criticism from the commentators on the wireless because by previously setting a legal precedent that Cylons had rights under the Articles of Colonisation in order to put the Six known as Gina on trial the City-State was now severely limited as to what it could do with the new prisoners.

The infamous "Toaster-Lover" lawyer Romo Lampkin had been interviewed about the ongoing Gina case and was asked if he had any plans to represent the five new cylons in the future. He answered that as yet none of the five had requested his services but said if they did he was willing to do, pro bono publico if necessary, because everyone was entitled to legal representation. Besides which, Lampkin had continued, as far as anyone could tell none of them had committed any crime against the Twelve Colonies, knowingly or otherwise. In fact, he noted, the actions in the field of at least three of them, Colonel Tigh, Chief Tyrol and Samuel Anders, might even be seen as treason against their Cylon brethren, albeit again unwittingly.

James McManus acting as the show's anchor had then initiated a debate between several regular guests, including Gaius Baltar who was back on the panel now that his drinking was apparently back under control, as to what should be done with the prisoners. Baltar had pointed out that because the five did not know what they were they might in fact be more dangerous than Gina Inviere herself. They might have unpredictable hidden programs that could be triggered at any time, they might genuinely be loyal to the Twelve Colonies with every fibre of their being _at the moment_but they were all just one activated line of code away from being genocidal killing machines intent on murder and terrorism like the original Sharon Valerii had been.

A hard-liner with suspected ties to the "Sons of Ares" movement invited to join the panel for the first time had expressed his continuing disgust that the Thirteenth Tribe had given citizenship to the second Sharon Valerii. It was outrageous, he said, but what could you expect from a society that lacked the moral guidance of the Lords of Kobol?

As the debate moved towards the continuing arguments about the supposed "proof" that humanity came from Earth not Kobol Baltar had of course supported the scientific evidence saying that the Quorum had asked him to check the findings and conclusions personally and he had confirmed them to his own satisfaction. Whilst those that took a traditionalist, or perhaps fundamentalist view of the sacred scrolls were still denying it could be true more moderate elements, even within the priesthood, were starting to say that although the texts were divinely inspired they were nonetheless written by men and much of it could be merely metaphor.

As she allowed an adorable little girl of six or seven feel her baby kick Cally reminded herself she needed to make her prayers that night. She must ask Circe the patron goddess of this world to bless her child who would be born here and make sure that she and the other Lords of Kobol understood that she wasn't abandoning her faith in them just because a few of the sacred scrolls had a few details wrong. Cally might have married someone from this odd monotheistic cult that decorated trees with tacky baubles, and told children that a fat guy wearing a red suit delivered presents on a flying sleigh that had a magical jump-drive fitted so he could get to every child throughout the Inner Sphere and Periphery in a single night, but she was still a true daughter of the Twelve Colonies.

She also made a mental note that she needed to remember to ask her husband what the significance of the mistletoe was other than the kissing, what the things called angels had done so wrong to be impaled on top of the tree and when this apparently much loved and generous ruler Wenceslas had been First Lord of the Star League?

* * *

**Orbital Shipyard – New Circe – 3046CE**

No sooner had the hangovers from the New Year's celebrations ended than work began again on both the repairs and refits of _Galactica_ and _Zughoffer Weir_and the upgrades to the two Titan Class dropships intended to turn them into light jump-cable carriers.

Although lacking the shipbuilding capabilities to construct full-sized warships from scratch New Circe had enough in the way of orbital infrastructure to maintain them and they could design and produce dropships if required. The shipyard berths and manufacturing facilities that hung above the planet had originally been put together from a pair of old Invader Class jumpships, a trio of large cargo dropships and a single warship, the _Buccaneer_which had been stripped decades ago for its armour and spare parts. Over the years the complex web of scaffolding and modules had been expanded greatly, metal mined from asteroids was cheap and in abundance for a society with limitless fusion power and plenty of spacecraft, but it still all had a slightly haphazard look to it especially now that it looked like it was infested with ticks, or rather the Raiders and Heavy Raiders in various states of repair which were dotted all over the place waiting their turn to be either stripped for parts or modified for Colonial Fleet or SLDF use.

Piloting a Raptor ferrying personnel from Galactica to what had once been a fifty-two thousand ton Mammoth Class dropship, but was now the core of the facility, Margaret "Racetrack" Edmondson spotted a Heavy Raider now bearing the asymmetric Cameron Star symbol of the Thirteenth dragging the broken remains of a Raider towards another module that contained the foundry. 'They're melting them down for the alloy after they scrape out the goo and take out anything else worth keeping' her ECO Skulls told her, 'I was talking to a knuckledragger about it yesterday' he said. 'They've got jumpships collecting all the debris and bringing it back here with that Battlecruiser _Rickenbacker_running as escort ship.'

'That'll keep them in metal for a while, we took out _thousands_of the frakkers' Racetrack replied.

'It's not just the Raiders, there's a lot of alloy in the outer hulls of those Basestars we blew all to hell too' Skulls noted.

'What are they going to do with it?' Racetrack queried, 'they've got better armour than the Toasters already.'

'It's lightweight, and if you cast it in microgravity it's supposed to be almost as strong as something they call endo-steel but it's cheaper because it's just scrap salvage' Skulls replied. 'They say they want to make new hovertanks out of it if you can believe that?'

'Hovertanks?' Racetrack repeated.

'Their army guys are pissed because production is shifting from battlemechs to aerospace fighters' Skulls explained, 'the way I hear it the politicians are placating the generals by letting them upgrade their armoured units instead' he said. 'The tanks are cheaper and mostly don't use the same resources to produce them as the mechs and fighters do' he continued. 'Almost all of their old vehicles are centuries old designs and a lot of them were manufactured decades ago so a few shiny new tanks with more modern weapons might keep the army happy.'

Racetrack rolled her eyes. 'Frakking politics and lobbyists' she muttered.

'Hey it happens with us too' Skulls pointed out. 'The fighter-jocks are flying around in Viper Mark VII's and we're still flying the same Raptors that were in service when the Mark II's were all the rage' he said. 'If one branch gets the toys the other ones miss out completely unless they kick up enough of a stink to make the politicians stand up and take notice' he said.

'Damn near every Admiral in the Colonial Fleet used to fly fighters before they moved up the chain of command, _that's_why the fighter pilots always got the lion's share of the procurement budget you know' Racetrack opined.

'Yeah' Skulls agreed. Flying around in a lumbering Raptor wasn't anywhere near as glamorous as sitting in the cockpit of a sleek Viper and the so-called "Viper-Ha'la'tha" had dominated the Fleet hierarchy.

Racetrack flew the Raptor past one of the Colonial Movers container transports which were currently being stripped of their FTL's. Their jump-drives were just the right size to mount on a Titan dropship, with the Wolvies increasing the mass of the things from twelve to just over thirteen and a half thousand tons in order to both fit in the drive and beef up the defensive armament without reducing cargo capacity. Able to carry up to eighteen Kirghiz, and soon to be studded with not only the ubiquitous LRPPC's but also the first units of both the new hybrid autocannon design and the laser anti-missile-systems now being hurried into service, if the Titans lived up to expectations they were a Raider's nightmare incarnate. A pocket warship with vicious point-defence of its own as well as the three SLDF Aerospace Fighter squadrons. There was even talk of entirely new craft being put into production once the Titans and the smaller Leopard Class carriers were upgraded, the rumour was that they were going to be up to three times the mass of the Titan's and would be called "Olympians".

'Coming up on our destination, please remember that they don't have artificial gravity over there yet so be careful and try not to puke when I cut the gravity in here before letting you float out' the pilot told her passengers.

'If you _are_going to puke, do it outside the ship in the hanger where it's someone else's problem' Skulls added.

After asking for and receiving clearance to dock a large airlock door opened to allow the Raptor to enter and as it closed behind them Racetrack landed beside a Kirghiz already in the bay and engaged the magnetic clamps on the landing gear to hold them in place. 'Cutting the gravity' she announced, powering down the AG system in the Raptor's deck.

To her relief nobody lost their lunch and as soon as the bay re-pressurised the Raptor opened its hatch and the passengers began floating out, pushing towards the hand-holds. 'Want to stretch your legs?' Racetrack asked her ECO. 'We're not due back at _Galactica_for an hour.'

'Yeah, I'll take a float around, not had much chance to see much of this place before' Skulls agreed, unlocking the harness that kept him in his chair and floating away from it as Racetrack did likewise.

The Raptor Pilot had always thought of the _Galactica_as being ancient, the grand old lady of the fleet, but she had been constructed less than fifty years ago whereas this re-used dropship like the rest of the SLDF vessels was likely at least three centuries old. It dated from an era when the Star League was at its height and although it was perfectly clean in the hanger, and despite the generally more advanced technology everywhere to be seen, it nonetheless had an almost antiquated vibe about it somehow.

Even the "modern" Kirghiz fighter berthed next to them was a design over a century and a half old making the Raptor seem incredibly up-to-date by comparison. If the Star league hadn't fallen, if the technological progress of the Thirteenth Tribe hadn't stagnated, or even regressed as it had through the Inner Sphere, what would their machines of war look like now Racetrack wondered? The Toasters wouldn't have stood a chance she decided, giving the hundred-ton fighter an appreciative look.

'I wish you looked at me that way Margaret' a familiar voice interrupted her chain of thought.

Racetrack twisted in mid-air as an equally familiar face floated towards her. 'Are you stalking me Gibson?' she asked the SLDF pilot in English.

'I would if I thought it would get me something other than a restraining order' Gibson replied. 'Hey Skulls' he greeted her ECO.

'Flight-Lieutenant' Skulls replied, with a nod of acknowledgement.

'It's Squadron Leader now' Gibson responded smugly, indicating his new rank insignia.

'Oh man, the SLDF must be getting desperate' Racetrack quipped.

'I had a lot of kills, a reasonably clean personnel file and we lost some senior pilots in the fighting so they promoted me' Gibson replied. 'I'm just taking the new bird there out for a spin, I'd ask you to join me but you'd have to sit on my lap' he told her.

'No thanks' Racetrack replied. 'What's wrong with your old fighter?' she asked.

'Nothing, they fixed it up good' Gibson responded, 'when I said I was talking this bird out for a spin I meant as in "spin up the FTL".'

The Raptor pilot raised her eyebrows. 'They've fitted it out with a jump-drive?' she queried.

'They have' Gibson confirmed, 'five tons worth of Colonial FTL and Tylium tank' he said. 'It's only got half the jump-range of your Raptors, hell a Kirghiz masses twice what your boat does, but she works' he said happily.

'You've already jumped it?' Skulls asked in surprise.

'Only around the system, short jumps of a few dozen AU at most to calibrate the drive but we're planning on the first interstellar jump the day after tomorrow' Gibson replied.

'Sweet' Skulls enthused. 'I guess it won't just be the frakking Raiders pulling the tactical jumping shit any more' he said. Raptors could do it but they weren't packing the raw firepower of the Wolvies. A few Kirghiz jumping in a couple of hundred kilometres from a Raider squadron could devastate it with Directed Energy Weapons before the Toasters knew what was going on.

'I'd buy you both a drink but I've got to do some flight-checks' Gibson apologised.

'Yeah, I guess you're paid a lot more that we are now aren't you Sir' Racetrack responded with a mock salute.

'The way the exchange rate is going between the Cubit and League Script maybe not for much longer, you guys are charging a lot for these jumpdrives' Gibson replied. 'We should start gouging you on the lasers to compensate.'

'Wait until you see what happens to the price of tylium fuel now you're starting to use it' Racetrack joked.

'Just don't price the jump-juice so high invading you looks a better option than paying you' Gibson advised. 'Your English is getting really good by the way, thought I'd mention it' he added.

'Lots of practice getting chatted up by good-looking Wolvies... and you too of course' Racetrack replied.

Gibson sighed. 'I'll break you woman' he said unconvincingly. 'Every girl falls for the Alan Gibson charm in the end' he declared.

'You're a very deluded man Squadron Leader' Racetrack told him, shaking her head sadly.

'No, just a dyed-in-the-wool optimist' Gibson replied, with a shrug. 'If you do get to the little bar they've got two decks up I guess you can both put a drink on my tab' he offered generously, 'but for the record vodka tastes better out of the plastic squeezy bulbs than whiskey and don't even _think_ about the beer because the microgravity microbrews suck even if they sound novel' he advised.

* * *

**Colonial City State – New Circe – 3046CE**

Restoring order in the city had only taken a few days of low-key military occupation while everyone adjusted but President Roslin suspected that the only way to end the chaos, scare mongering, outright lies and recrimination bubbling up amidst the press corps would be if Admiral Adama stood next to her would helpfully have a few of them shot. Dictatorship would be so much easier she thought with an inward sigh, democracy and a free press was so messy, stressful and irritating. 'Next question' she requested, looking out at the dozen or so reporters from both sides of the border who had turned up for this regular press conference.

'James Dexter, McEvedy City Times' one of the foreign journalists introduced himself in passable Caprican. 'Has the Colonial Government or Military any comment to make regarding the announcement by the SLDF of problems with the new autocannon design?' he asked.

'The limit of my military knowledge is which end of a gun the bullets come out of so I'll direct that to the Admiral' Roslin replied to polite laughter.

Adama looked down at his prepared notes, he had been expecting this question. 'Ongoing testing of the 50mm LB X UAC has revealed it to be a reliable weapon and one which will soon be equipping both the Colonial military and that of the Star League in Exile' he said, quoting part of the official press release.

'Really, even given the issue with the barrel wearing out and overheating?' Dexter persisted.

'While continuous use of the maximum rate of fire does shorten the life-span of the barrel, as you would expect it to given that the LB X was originally designed for half that rate, that merely means they will have to be replaced more often' Adama replied. 'It has no effect on the weapons capability as long as it is properly maintained' he stated.

'But what about the overheating?' the Colonial journalist Playa Palacios asked, it seemed like the Admiral had avoided mentioning that in his reply and that omission triggered a suspicion in her mind.

Adama frowned. 'Testing has shown that continually using the weapon at the maximum rate of fire can lead to the barrel heating up much faster than the heat-sinks can cope with' he reluctantly admitted.

'Meaning Admiral?' Palacios queried.

'The barrel softens and warps as it starts to melt' Adama replied. 'In the worst case scenario the ammunition could cook off in the breach before it's properly chambered, causing catastrophic failure' he told her.

'Cooks off?' Palacios whispered to her colleagues.

'The gun explodes' Dexter explained quietly.

'This sounds like we're giving our military a weapon that potentially endangers their own lives' Palacios quizzed Adama.

'No, if the temperature gauge indicates that the autocannon is overheating all you need to do is either reduce the rate of fire or simply switch to another weapon entirely while it cools off' Adama told her. 'The ammunition feed system from our battlestar point-defence batteries worked very well with the LB X autocannon design but the higher muzzle-velocity, and need to both maintain accuracy and keep weight down, meant our heavy-barrelled smoothbore design wasn't suitable' he explained.

Palacios looked to Dexter again. 'Not as accurate and it would be too bulky and weigh too much to mount effectively on a fighter or a battlemech' he whispered to her as she made notes for her report on the matter. If she sexed it up a little this story could make the front page. "Our heroes forced to use unreliable, unsafe weapon rushed into production" should spark some interest she decided.

'Next question please, something I can answer this time so the Admiral is off the hook' Roslin said with a smile.

Sekou Hamilton formerly of the Aerelon Gazette and now with the the City-State Star raised his hand and was acknowledged. 'Madam President' he began, 'the jury in the trial of the cylon Gina Inviere was now been deliberating their verdict for three days, typically the longer it takes for a verdict to be reached the lower the chances are that the defendant is convicted can I ask what the government would do if the cylon was acquitted on all or some of the charges?'

Roslin smiled. 'I'm not going to pre-empt the legal process by setting a policy before the judgement is in' she replied, 'I will however state categorically that my administration will not interfere in the courts, we have a separate judiciary, legislature and executive for a reason and I wholeheartedly agree with it' she continued. 'The Quorum voted cylon prisoners legal rights under the Articles which meant that the Six would be accorded Due Process under the law after all and as head of the executive branch it's my duty to ensure the law is followed and enforced... I don't get to write it or decide ultimately if people have broken it' she said.

Admiral Adama tried not to chuckle, the President had just neatly removed herself from any blame for an unpopular outcome. If the cylon managed to avoid the harsh punishment many of the people thought it deserved, well that was entirely down to the Quorum and the Courts. Good old Laura "Throw 'em out the airlock" Roslin had excellent hard-line credentials on the Toaster prisoner issue so the majority of the outrage wouldn't head her way.

'As a follow-up question will the additional five cylon prisoners, who of course include both your own former aide and the Admiral's former Executive Officer, be tried also?' Hamilton asked.

The President crossed her arms. 'At the moment we have no evidence they committed any crimes, nor indeed that they even _knew_they were Cylons' Roslin replied, 'so they are being held merely as Prisoners of War under wartime military regulations.'

'Isn't it true that Saul Tigh still refuses to accept that he _is_a Cylon?' Playa Palacios asked, looking straight at Adama.

'Yes, that is the case' Roslin confirmed, 'the others are less sure one way or the other although they are universally... I think "depressed" would be the right word' she said.

Palacios raised her eyebrows. 'They really did a great job copying us right down to the mental frailties didn't they?' she observed.

Roslin nodded. 'I suspect _they_might even think they went too far' she replied. 'The outright defection of the Eight known as Sharon Valerii from the Cylons probably shows they needed to code in a little more loyalty' she said, 'as well a little more sanity' she joked to more polite laughter.

The next question dealt with the ongoing discussions about the changes to the Articles of Confederation required to establish a more suitable government model for a City-State of fifty thousand rather than Twelve semi-autonomous colonies with a population of twenty billion. So far it had been agreed to keep the Quorum as twelve members, acting as an Upper House, but the People's Council which was established on a proportional basis, and so didn't unfairly bolster the influence of the less numerous survivors of some of the colonies, would be increased in influence to increase the democratic mandate of the Legislature and stop the Gemonese from complaining that their large numbers weren't being accorded the power and sway in government they deserved.

The religious angle was the tricky one. Despite being a nominally secular system religious leaders and advisors had always had good access to the halls of power, and also many argued an undue influence on politics. Comparing themselves with the government of New Circe it was clear that although the large majority of the population was Christian, mostly of the Lutheran sect, Separation of Church and State was far more clear-cut on the other side of the border. Laura Roslin was in an odd situation in that although she had always been a secularist herself by inclination she was also now considered both a prophetess of sorts and a religious icon. She neatly fitted the role of the "Dying Leader" in the Scrolls of Pythia who would lead the people to a new homeland and she still genuinely thought she was that leader, although the revelations from Kobol indicated that quite a lot of the Scrolls were demonstrably inaccurate at best, completely untrue at worst.

Despite everything religious faith seemed to still be strong, even those who now accepted that the Sacred Scrolls were not inerrant still stuck by their belief in the gods and said that it didn't matter if humanity originally came from Earth or Kobol, that wasn't a core feature of their faith anyway. Only the Sagitarons and Gemonese had tended to be scriptural literalists before the fall of the Twelve Colonies anyway, most Capricans, Taurons or whoever already considered most of the texts allegory.

Those inclined to make their decisions on religious grounds remained a powerful voting block, one which the Quorum had to take note of and Roslin herself could not afford to ignore. After much debate, often behind closed doors, it had been decided that one way to throw the traditionalist a bone, as well to help foster unity, would be to model the city after something from the Scrolls which had been proven by archaeology to be correct.

The City-State would be built in honour of the City of the Gods on Kobol, following the design from the pictures in the Book of Pythia and the plans of the city layout brought back by the teams who had excavated the site on Kobol itself. A great domed forum would lie at the heart of the city with roads heading off in all directions, a ring of temples and public buildings including an opera house would ring the forum with the rest of the City-State surrounding them.

It would take years to complete but it would be a gift to both the Lords of Kobol and future generations. A great metropolis of wide roads, marble columns and towers of steel and glass would rise on New Circe and it would contain temples and other buildings that were exact copies of those which had existed on each of the Twelve Colonies. The Colonials needed to do something more than fight and merely survive, if they wanted to be a civilisation again they needed to build and they were going to.

A dash of optimism for the future works wonders for a society, Laura Roslin fervently hoped that looking ahead whilst not forgetting the past would enable her people to resist cultural assimilation by the Wolverines whilst also hoping that simultaneously the military assistance of the Wolverines would enable the people of the Colonial City-State to resist eradication by the Cylons.

The last question made Admiral Adama very embarrassed although it was the ideal "Feel Good" story that the press loved to tack onto the end of wireless broadcasts. Apparently the tough-old military veteran had retrieved a little girl's favourite stuffed toy from her home in Delphi City on Caprica after she asked him to and he had delivered it to her personally when he got back. She hadn't told anyone because he made her promise not to but her parents had and the press now asked Adama if it was true.

As Roslin tried not to laugh at his pained expression the Admiral confirmed the tale and he thanked the gods that Saul Tigh was behind bars because his old friend would have mocked him mercilessly for all the press coverage he got for it.

The grossly exaggerated, sensationalised and hyperbolic news article about the new autocannon irritated him more though, damn journalists he thought.

* * *

**_Note from the Author:_**

_Sister Tivenan blessed Cally's son in the show. James McManus of the Colonial Gang was a leading journalist._

_The Colonial Movers ships seemed about the right size to have suitable jump-drives to mount on a Titan dropship. In Greek Myth the Titans were usurped by the more powerful Olympians so the latter seemed like a good name for a successor class to the Titan Carrier Dropships. The Olympians were also the Lords of Kobol of course which might appeal to the Colonials, the lead ship of the Olympian Class would just have to be called Zeus. It's often said that the USAF leadership is dominated by the so-called "Fighter Mafia" who tend to prioritise the fast-movers (fighters) over ground attack aircraft and bombers. The Ha'la'tha is the closest thing we know of to the Mafia in nBSG so I thought a "Viper-Ha'la'tha" in the fleet might be the reason that the Viper pilots kept getting new toys every few years and the Raptor crews apparently didn't. The Buccaneer and the Rickenbacker are two other named Wolverine warships from canon, their classes are never mentioned but I'm having the latter as the designation for the Wolverine's Black Lion Class Battlecruiser. As for the Buccaneer the Zughoffer Weir was badly damaged at the Battle of Barbados (when the fleeing Wolverine fleet faced the other Clans), Bucanneer ended up being stripped to finish the repairs to the Wolvie flagship and the rest of her was used as part of the New Circe orbital._

_Modelling the design of the City-State on the City of the Gods on Kobol seemed like a good unifying move. All the peoples of the Colonies originally came from there so it's a better choice than adopting a city-planning style from any individual colony. The new autocannon has a phenomenal rate-of-fire but it can't keep it up for a sustained period (you'd see the barrel start to glow at night!). It's a nice upgrade of the original LB X but not perfect._


	18. Chapter 17

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_Cicero wrote that 'We have laws that we might be free', of course he was a lawyer himself and it wouldn't have sounded quite so noble and civilised if he had said 'We have lawyers that we might pay fees' which is equally true alas." _

_**James Dexter – City-State Correspondent for the McEvedy City Times – 3046CE**_

* * *

******Colonial City State – New Circe – 3046CE**

Finding the place certainly wasn't difficult, it was still a very small city after all and the office stood out from the other buildings along the street in any case. They were canvas and wood whereas it was a two-story brick structure that wouldn't have earned a second glance back in the Twelve Colonies but here it was almost imposing.

Julia Brynn hoped her clothes were okay, she didn't own an interview suit but what she was wearing was clean and well-maintained at least she decided, walking up to the door.

'Probably some whore that needs a lawyer' a passer-by muttered loud enough to overhear.

'In those clothes?' someone else responded doubtfully as Julia knocked on the door, hoping that the reference to her apparel meant she didn't look like a cheap slut rather than being a general comment on the quality of her wardrobe.

'Come in' a voice called out from inside and Julia pushed open the door finding a man carrying a pile of papers to a box before unceremoniously dumping them into it, the office was a complete mess with files and papers everywhere. 'Yes?' he asked tersely.

Julia closed the door behind her and tried not to look or sound nervous. 'Mr Lampkin?' she asked, already knowing full well who it was. The man was a minor celebrity these days although he didn't currently have his famous sunglasses on.

'That's what it says on the sign outside, well unless someone has scrawled "Toaster-Lover" on it again' the lawyer replied. 'Romo Lampkin, Attorney-at-Law at your service Miss' he said. 'Or is it Ms. instead?' he queried.

'How did you know it isn't Mrs?' she asked.

'No ring on your finger' Lampkin explained. 'Of course you could have taken it off and be here to ask me to help with a divorce case but I doubt it' he added.

'You're very observant' Julia told him.

'And you're kissing up so I guess you're here about the job?' Lampkin reasoned.

Julia blushed. 'Yes, I saw you were advertising for a new secretary' she admitted.

'Secretary, Office Clerk, Personal Assistant, General Office Flunky' Lampkin responded, 'if I hire you I''l let you choose your own job title' he told her, looking her up and down. 'Okay, take a seat at the desk and I'll pretend you're not the only applicant' he continued wryly, moving to the desk himself which was strewn with more papers.

Julia sat down primly across from him as Lampkin slouched in his own chair. 'I typed up a copy of my résumé for you to look over' she said, getting out a thin file.

'So you can type at least' the lawyer replied, taking it from her and scanning it. 'You're working in a Government Office at the moment?' he noted, reading the most recent entry in her employment history.

'Yes, I'm a file clerk in the Department of Commerce and Development' Julia told him. 'I can get a reference from Secretary Wallace Gray if you need one' she told him.

'Smart man' Lampkin opined, 'boring technocrat with the personality to match his name but he's a smart man nonetheless' he said. 'Why do you want to leave your current employer?' he asked.

'Government work pays very badly, I'm not likely to get promoted any time soon either because there are other people with better qualifications than me in the office and they can work longer hours than I can too' Julia replied.

'So you're motivated by money and you're lazy?' Lampkin concluded. He was however smiling inwardly though you would have never guessed from his expression.

Julia narrowed her eyes. 'I want higher pay so I can buy my daughter the things she needs and I can't work long hours because I can't leave her in childcare all day' she replied in annoyance. Jerk, she thought.

Lampkin chuckled. 'Good, you've got some spark to you' he said appreciatively. 'You'd need that if you're going to work with me' he said. 'I'm not seeing any legal experience' he noted, reading through the résumé.

'I'm not seeing any filing experience' Julia retorted, looking around at his haphazard paperwork.

'Touché and another point' Lampkin replied. 'Well at least you've got _office_experience' he said. 'How fast can you type?' he asked.

'Fifty words per minute but I've been getting faster' Julia replied.

Lampkin nodded, that was a lot faster than him anyway he knew. 'It says here you know shorthand?' he said.

'Not very well but I'll get quicker at that too if I did it more often' Julia told him.

'I do talk a lot and it's often well worth recording for posterity so practice should make perfect' the lawyer replied. 'You've been taking English classes one evening a week' he noted with some surprise, reaching that section of the résumé.

'They have a crèche at the community college and I thought it would be good for my future prospects' Julia explained.

'Well I formally apologise for calling you lazy Ms. Brynn' Lampkin told her. 'And it _has_been good for your prospects because it just got you the job' he announced.

Julia broke out into a broad smile. 'Really?' she asked.

'No I'm just yanking your chain, get lost' Lampkin deadpanned. 'That was a joke' he said after a pause during which her face fell. 'When can you start?' he asked. 'I'll pay twice what you were getting before, whatever that was' he said.

'I've got to give a weeks notice at the office' Julia replied, 'I took a day's leave I was due to come here but it's the only one I was owed' she said. '_Twice_?' she exclaimed when it sank in.

Lampkin leaned forward. 'So you don't have to go back to the office today?' he asked.

'No' Julia replied. 'I was going to go shopping this afternoon' she said.

'Well you still are because you're going to need a better set of work clothes and I'll consider it a business expense so if you can find where I put the petty cash tin take the cubits you need from there' her new boss told her.

'_Twice_what I'm getting now?' Julia asked again for confirmation.

'I'm making a _lot_ of money' Lampkin told her honestly. 'Because the New Circe Government has me on retainer I get a steady stream of income from them _plus_private firms on the other side of the border see me as being government-approved so I sort out most of their contracts with our government and businesses' he said.

'So is that how you afforded this place?' Julia queried.

Lampkin shrugged. 'As a matter of fact this place you're sitting in was provided by a Wolvie Civil Engineering firm in return for me ironing out a few technicalities in contracts that needed to be legally binding under both Star League and Colonial Law' he explained. 'It's a lot less draughty than my old hut, I live upstairs' he told her, pointing up.

'With Lance the Cat?' Julia asked.

'Why do they _always_ mention the damn cat too when they talk about me on the wireless?' Lampkin wondered aloud, rolling his eyes. 'I only took it to court _once_' he pointed out.

'It makes you sound quirky and interesting, like the sunglasses do' Julia told him.

The lawyer looked thoughtful. 'I don't mind people mentioning the shades' he admitted, he knew he looked cool in them. His wife had thought so too... well she did _before_she was his wife anyway.

'You're not quite what I expected' Julia admitted. 'I can really take money to buy new work clothes?' she checked, surprised by the generosity.

'_If_you can find the Petty Cash tin like I said before' Lampkin replied, 'tidying up a few files while you look would be a good way to impress the new boss too' he advised.

Julia threw him a suspicious look. 'You're not expecting me to buy a really short skirt are you?' she asked. 'I had a boss before once that used to ask me to bend over to pick things off the floor a lot' she told him.

'All that crap was on the floor well before you arrived and if you file it properly it won't be any more' Lampkin replied. 'As for the skirt, even ignoring the possibility of a sexual harassment suit which every other lawyer in the City-State would _love_to take out against me on your behalf, with this planet's climate short skirts should be classified as a health and safety offence' he declared. 'You'd freeze your... something I won't mention because of the previously mentioned possibility of a sexual harassment lawsuit... off' he said with a wry smile.

Julia laughed. 'You really _are_a good talker' she told him. 'I can see why everyone on the wireless says you're the best lawyer around.'

'Let's be honest, not too much competition these days' Lampkin pointed out. 'It might be under the blue folders over there' he remembered, 'the cash tin I mean' he said before checking his watch. 'I've got to go meet a client at a bar in twenty minutes' he said. 'I'll be back here in two hours or so if you want to come back and start working on this disaster area after your clothes shopping' he told her.

When Julia arrived back at the office wearing the sharp new business wear she thought her new job warranted Lampkin was already back in the office and putting on his own best suit and struggling with both the tie and a cat that was hassling him to be fed. 'There's some food for the cat in the refrigerator back there could you do me a favour and pour some into the bowl on the floor that has "I hate cats" written on it' he requested.

'Yeah sure' Julia replied, 'is something wrong, you look flustered' she told him. She never thought of the infamous Romo Lampkin as a man that ever got flustered.

'I got a message from the court, the jury is about to return to deliver the verdict on Gina Inviere' he explained.

'The Toaster?' Julia responded.

'Humanform Cylon' Lampkin corrected her, 'my client' he said. 'No, I should say _our_client' he told her. 'You're part of the firm now.'

Julia found the refrigerator and fed the cat which attacked the food she dished out for it. 'Can I come?' she asked.

'Only if you don't mind the possibility of being seen with me in public' Lampkin replied, 'there's going to be reporters, camera crews and photographers' he warned.

'I'd better comb my hair' Julia decided. 'Is the suit okay?' she asked, indicating her new clothes. 'I used up most of the Petty Cash' she told him apologetically.

Lampkin finished dressing himself and picked a pair of sunglasses before looking her up and down. 'Very nice' he told her, putting on the shades.

'You think so?' Julia asked.

'Very Laura Roslin' Lampkin observed.

'So you're saying the skirt is just a little too far above the knee?' Julia suggested, laughing.

'I was thinking classy rather than immodest and I'm not mentioning skirt-length again until I can write some special clauses in your employment contract for you to sign regarding not suing me for making comments about it' Lampkin joked. 'Grab a pad of paper and a pen from over there in case you need to make notes and we'll get going' he said as she found a mirror and combed her hair.

'Do you really think the Toast... Cylon might get off?' Julia asked.

Lampkin nodded. 'On at least some of the charges yes... she had a _very_good lawyer' he said with a smile.

'If you get her anything short of a firing squad as a verdict you'll be knee-deep in guilty clients hoping you'll achieve miracles for them' Julia told him, picking up the pad and pen as they headed for the door. 'Is there some kind of employee bonus scheme for when the firm is doing well?' she wondered.

'Yes, the General Office Flunky doesn't get fired' Lampkin replied, 'that's a nice perk' he said.

'We need to talk about my job title' Julia told him seriously.

* * *

**City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3046CE**

'Mandatory sentencing?' Lord Protector Vaun repeated, looking quizzically at the judge sat opposite her in her office. She had requested somebody to explain the situation and consequences to her and her staff being efficient as always had immediately located the best qualified person they could find. In this case it was a judge who taught occasional law classes at the university and who had recently written an article comparing Colonial and SLDF Law for the McEvedy City Times.

Percival Sydney Whatworth III was the third of his family to carry that name and the third to go into the legal profession after doing his mandatory military service. His father had been a famous trial lawyer and his grandfather had also been a judge, although neither had been particularly imaginative when it came to names Vaun thought to herself. 'Yes Madam Lord Protector' the judge responded formally, 'the Colonial legal system adopted a poorly thought-out system and in this case, dare I say it, it bit them on the ass' he continued in a rather more informal manner.

'Could you explain?' Vaun requested.

'Both espionage and sabotage carry the death sentence' the judge explained, 'the system doesn't give the judge or jury room much room to manoeuvre on sentencing so if they found her guilty on those charges the Cylon would have likely faced a firing squad' he said. 'She was quite clearly guilty as hell on both charges but because of her treatment at the hands of Admiral Cain and her cronies, and her subsequent mental breakdown, the jury likely considered it wasn't really just or fair to put her up against a wall' he theorised.

Vaun nodded. 'Has this sort of thing happened before?' she asked, 'In either their system or ours?'

'There are certainly similar situations that I can recall' Whatworth replied. 'It's known that conviction rates for murder have been seen to rise when the death penalty is abolished' he said, 'juries are often more willing to send someone to prison than the executioner on the same level of evidence' he continued. 'As regards mandatory sentencing in particular, well the Federated Suns once introduced a rule under which a third offence carried automatic life imprisonment' he told her, 'it was an unmitigated disaster' he stated flatly. 'Initially the prisons filled up to overflowing with people serving decades behind bars for what were often relatively trivial offences and then guilty people started getting acquitted only because juries didn't think that what they did deserved such a harsh punishment' he said. 'If you try and make justice black and white and rule out shades of grey you're going to get some very messy results, real life is seldom so conveniently clean-cut that you can implement that kind of legislation and not create a few absurdities.'

'This is when you lecture me about politicians with agendas writing laws whilst seeking to cash in on the vagaries of public opinion without thinking them through, query affirmative?' Vaun asked with a knowing smile.

'Negative' Whatworth denied. 'I would never _think_ to lecture the Lord Protector' he told her, 'but our parliament _has_put some utter drivel on the statute books too on occasion' he continued, smiling back. 'In broad terms our sentences are more draconian than the Colonials as a rule' he said, 'you'll generally do more time for the same crime on our side of the border, but our judges have more latitude to adjust sentences downwards if they have to in order to ensure a conviction.'

'Or have the punishment fit the crime' Vaun added.

Whatworth gave the Lord Protector a slightly disparaging look. 'Civilised societies seek to deter criminality not punish criminals Lord Protector' he told her. 'Harsh sentences are a means to an end not the end in itself' he chided.

'That was _definitely_a lecture' Vaun responded, wagging her finger at him in mock disapproval.

'I apologise, for a second there I forgot I wasn't addressing one of my students' Whatworth replied guiltily.

'I'll choose to take that as a complement that I still look like I did twenty-five years ago then' Vaun replied. 'What about the other charges?' she asked, intrigued.

'The prosecution had tried to portray the death of Admiral Cain as an assassination, part of the Cylon's infiltration mission like the attempt once made on Adama Senior by the original Sharon Valerii, but given the circumstances it wasn't all that difficult for the defence lawyer to argue quite convincingly it was simply an act of revenge that stemmed from betrayal' the judge told her. 'The prior romantic relationship between the defendant and the victim was wonderful ammunition for a good lawyer' he said. 'To be honest it would have been difficult enough to get a conviction for premeditated murder let alone planned assassination, if the prosecution had taken that tack instead I'm sure the defence would have pushed for a plea of temporary insanity' he supposed. 'The Cylon is still evidently less than completely stable now and she would presumably been much worse then.'

Vaun turned looked out of the window of her office, it was a sunny day for once, she might take a walk later. 'The defence seemed very able, query affirmative?' she asked.

'Affirmative' Whatworth confirmed. 'I've been following the translated court transcripts' he continued. 'This Romo Lampkin character is _very_sharp' he said appreciatively. 'He successfully clouded the issues he wanted the jury to ignore and made the points he wanted them to consider crystal clear' he told her. 'The state prosecutor was frankly out of her league, she lacked the experience not to get pulled into his game and he did have plenty of nice curve balls to throw at her' he said before laughing. 'Sorry, I've been coaching my grandsons baseball team Saturday mornings, the sports metaphors have clearly taken over' he explained.

'Makes a change from the military ones our society peppers its language with I suppose' Vaun responded. 'President Roslin once told me that we're a martial culture right down to our speech patterns and it's hard to argue we're not' she had to agree. 'We did well to put Lampkin on retainer ourselves' the Lord Protector continued thoughtfully, 'he's sorted out a number of legal problems for us in our dealings with the Munch... Colonials' she said, stopping herself using the nickname, it was becoming a nasty habit.

'I'm hoping I might get to see him perform in person one day' Whatworth replied. 'On the wider legal front the precedents being set recently regarding AI's both in terms of Colonial and our laws might have some interesting long-term consequences' he said. 'I officiated over an extremely lively debate between law students last week who were arguing about the clans new cylon and half-cylon citizens' he told her. 'It throws up an interesting hypothetical as how smart or sapient an artificial intelligence might have to be to qualify for legal rights, the Star League at its height created AI's after all so, as one promising student pointed out, we could be caught out if the computer sciences people in the next building ever repeated that work.'

'Sharon Valerii isn't software in a box' Vaun pointed out.

'No but based on what we know of Cylon technology she _was_before she was downloaded into a physical body Lord Protector' the judge noted before he laughed. 'Another more irreverent student suggested that if it's true that Sharon Valerii is going to be allowed to marry the father of her child as the press reported then hypothetically would another man be able to wed an unusually bright android made for sex?' he asked rhetorically.

'Funny, but it's not exactly the same thing' Vaun replied. 'Cylons and humans can interbreed.'

'Ah but if reproduction is the criteria then should we disenfranchise those who are unable to produce children?' Whatworth replied. 'We already have a few citizens who are deemed to have absorbed a few too many rads to safely produce offspring naturally so they use the Iron Wombs instead, often with DNA from the clans genetic repository' he said. 'Our hypothetical human/sexbot married couple could easily have children the same way.'

Vaun blinked. 'This isn't exactly something I had considered' she admitted.

'I'd say something about politicians making quick decisions with unforeseen legal consequences down the line but I'd be hauled up on it I'm sure' the judge quipped, earning a momentary glare. A basic flaw of democracy was of course that it ensured government by amateurs who just happened to win an election, by its very nature it was going to be messy. 'In order to gain my place in the legal books I'll volunteer right now to marry the two of them to each other though, I know of at least one other judge who would be loathe to do it and they certainly wouldn't get a religious wedding on _either_side of the border I'd imagine' he said.

'Probably not' Vaun agreed. A "soulless" machine being given citizenship and clan membership had led to some extremely vocal criticism of her administration from the religious crowd. Fortunately belief in separation of church and state was far more staunch in New Circe than it was in the Colonial City-State so it wasn't going to do much more than cost her a few votes from the fundamentalist crowd come the next election, not that she liked getting the letters in the mail. 'So your view on the final outcome of the trial?' she requested. 'There can't be many defendants who were rewarded for receiving a not guilty verdict with what amounts to life imprisonment' she said.

'Release wasn't ever going to be an option realistically' Whatworth replied. 'The Cylon was immediately reclassified as a Prisoner of War and a threat to national security by Executive Order and was thrown straight back into a cell' he said. 'The Quorum will undoubtedly support Roslin's decision and it ties the hands of her defence lawyer even if he wanted to try and get her out, which he doesn't.'

'Yes I saw that interview on the News Channel earlier, they take a feed off the Colonial Wireless' Vaun responded. 'He said he wanted to prove that the Colonial City-State was a civilisation with a code of laws not a mob, he didn't want a dangerous enemy agent roaming free.'

'It was a good speech. Perhaps he's going to run for office' the judge suggested.

'Lawyers becoming politicians is hardly unusual but for my part I'd much sooner negotiate with Laura Roslin than President Lampkin any day' Vaun joked, the chances of the "Cylon Lover" that saved the Six Gina from the firing squad ever ending up Colonial President had to be remote in the extreme.

* * *

**Battlestar Galactica – New Circe Orbit – 3046CE**

Leaving his quarters and heading for the CIC Admiral Adama was currently grateful of two things, firstly he wasn't down there in the City-State having to deal with any of the political fall-out of the Gina Inviere case and secondly he wasn't on _Pegasus_dealing with the large proportion of the original crew that were enraged that the murderer of their former CO wasn't being punished.

Lee appeared to be coping, although he had requested to extend the period Dualla would be over there acting as his temporary XO, and the personal feelings of the Beast's crew didn't appear to be affecting either the ships military efficiency or her production of new Viper Mark VII's at least. The Admiral had been prepared to rotate some personnel over if the situation deteriorated morale or discipline wise but so far it had proven unnecessary.

It still felt very strange arriving on the CIC and not finding Saul Tigh there Adama thought to himself as he took up his usual position and Gaeta started giving him a situation report. He would have to find a new XO very soon and given the identity of the best candidate this would mean building some bridges before recalling Karl Agathon from his planetary assignment. The man was still harbouring an understandable grudge regarding his daughter, and although Adama considered him too professional to let that get in the way in terms of his duty the commanding officer needed to have a good working relationship with his XO on order to ensure the smooth running of the ship.

'Target drones?' Adama queried, after Gaeta completed his report.

'Yes Sir' Gaeta replied. 'There are approximately one-hundred and seventy five salvaged raiders which aren't considered useful for anything else' he explained. 'Everything valuable that could be stripped has been, including useful alloys, so now the plan is to push them up to speed using a shuttle and then use them as target practice' he said.

The Admiral scratched his chin. 'It would give the new pilots we're training something more interesting to shoot up than normal at least' he said. 'Tell Starbuck to run with it' he said.

'Yes Sir' Gaeta responded. 'We've had a request from the CAG on _Zughoffer Weir_for a squadron to play aggressor against them in a training exercise of their own later in the week' he said. 'They're asking if we can fly like Cylons' he continued with a grin.

'I think we can manage that' Adama replied, 'we'll just tell our pilots to act dumber than normal' he said. Raiders were supposedly about as bright as a dog, smart enough to do their jobs but truly intelligent, inventive and tricky ones were a rarity. 'I'll authorise the training mission but make sure that the CAG over there realises he owes us a favour' he said, idly leafing through some of the days paperwork he really needed to read a few of these before the Secretary of Commerce and Development arrived to brief him in preparation for the visit from the man from NCMI.

Wallace Gray was surprised to be greeted by the Admiral himself when he got off the Raptor which had ferried him up from the City-State. He was technically a high-ranking member of the government, thought of as being President Roslin's go-to guy, but he had imagined Adama would be too busy on military matters to meet him personally and escort him to the room which had been set aside for this meeting.

Adama offered Gray a drink before they sat down and was mildly impressed that Gray requested water and wanted to get straight down to business. The Secretary of Commerce and Industry had many detractors but even his political foes rarely doubted his ability, he was an extremely effective manager of both people and resources and it was thought a pity that there was only one of him and so many things that needed to be sorted out.

Opening a folder and handing Adama a summary of what the President wanted to achieve from this plus a few useful facts and figures Gray sipped his glass of water whilst the Admiral scanned down the top sheet. 'We want NCMI to invest in the City-State?' Adama queried.

Gray put down his glass and nodded. 'New Circe Military Industries is the planets largest manufacturer of defence equipment, but they're suffering from the switch from battlemech to aerospace fighter production because the profit margins were larger on mechs and to make matters worse they lost out on the bidding to produce the new Avar fighter to their main competitor' he said. 'NCMI desperately want to get their foot in the door regarding future sales to the City-State in order to offset all that so the President and I think we might be in a good position to negotiate a better deal from them than we might have otherwise' he told Adama.

'You really are an opportunist like they say on the wireless aren't you?' the Admiral replied.

'I wear it as a badge of honour' Gray responded with a smile. 'NCMI currently produces our KEW ammunition so for a start we're hoping to persuade them to plough some of their profits into transferring munitions production to a new factory on our side of the border' he said. 'It'll be a joint project between the City-State government and the company' he continued. 'Most of the profits will still go to NCMI but we'll get a boost in tax revenue plus some decent jobs for our civilian population.'

'Our wages are lower' Adama pointed out.

'Yes they are so the company shouldn't be too averse to the idea we hope' Gray replied. 'It'll cost them a lot of investment capital short-term but we're willing to guarantee that the Colonial Fleet will look favourably upon NCMI when it comes to future equipment purchases... with your agreement of course' he added.

Adama had been skimming the next page but he looked up. 'As long as they don't think they can sell us poor quality goods and get away with it because we're tied in to them as a supplier I'm certainly willing to agree to favour a company that employs Colonials as well as Wolvies' he said.

'Glad to hear you're onboard with this' Gray told him appreciatively.

'A factory only making thirty and fifty millimetre ammunition isn't going to be a huge concern you know' Adama told him. 'Not many jobs would be created.'

Gray chuckled. 'No but once we've got them thinking in terms of joint projects with the City-State it'll be easier to get them to cooperate on larger enterprises' he said. 'We're going to set up a much larger facility which we intend will not only produce weaponry for our use but also stuff we can sell to the SLDF' he told him. 'We'll need tooling from the other side of the border but if we can start exporting more manufactured goods it'll help our economy a lot' he continued. 'The production lines you brought back from home mean we'll soon be selling them Raptor FTL's in quantity but the market for those is limited... once every Kirghiz has one that's it.'

The Admiral looked thoughtful. 'The SLDF were very impressed with our Lightning-Javelin missiles' he noted. 'We've already got small-scale production of them going but we could definitely sell a lot more than we're making right now' he suggested.

'Excellent, they'll be firing them off at Raiders like crazy and needing a constant supply of new ones' Gray enthused. 'Consumables are just what we're looking for' he continued, 'selling tylium fuel to the New Circe government can only bring in so much revenue unfortunately.'

Adama sighed. 'I assume you heard that we estimate that the tylium asteroids we've been mining will be all depleted within the next two or three months at the current rate of extraction?' he asked.

'I read the report from the Captain of the _Monarch_' Gray confirmed.

'We've already scouted other nearby systems and the quantity of available tylium is minimal we're going to have to look further out, probably as a joint operation with the SLDF' Adama told him. 'If we dispatch _Monarch_ or _Majahual_on an extended mission corewards, with perhaps one of the new small escort carriers to protect her, we stand a good chance of finding a better source of ore and without huge risk of running into the Cylons.'

'Small escort carriers?' Gray queried.

'Now that the Wolvies have their Titan carrier dropships entering service they're already fitting out their smaller Leopards with our FTL's and improved anti-fighter weaponry for dealing with Raiders' Adama explained. 'We're only talking a half-dozen aerospace fighters carried but if they were Kirghiz jumpfighters with the new autocannons and some Lightning-Javelins it would be a decent escort force' he said. 'One of our own Raptors would be carried by the mining ship, they've got a better jump-range than the Kirghiz' he noted, 'same FTL half the mass, and they've got superior sensors for finding tylium too.'

'How far out would they go?' Gray asked.

'As far as they needed to, hopefully they can find a decent quantity of tylium without getting too far corewards, I don't think the Wolvies would want to risk meeting anyone from the Inner Sphere' Adama replied. 'They're fond of their isolation' he observed.

'Well they didn't choose to live in a nebula because they liked not having a very good view of the stars at night' Gray replied with a laugh. 'I can see to it the operation is approved by the President, I'll raise it with her as soon as I get back to the City-State' he said. 'She'll smooth out any possible issues with the SLDF I'm sure.'

'Admiral Franks knows the importance of a new tylium supply, it's the life-blood of both fleets now' Adama responded. 'We can probably get the mission fully authorised and ready to go as soon as the Leopard is ready to leave the yard, they've already got more jumpfighters completed than I might have thought possible given how recently they had the first one going through testing. It's a definite "can-do" attitude.'

'They're quick off the mark and enthusiastic, you've got to give the Thirteenth Tribe that' Gray replied.

'They've been preparing for a war for a long time and they got one. Granted it's not the war they _expected_but they're definitely enjoying it as far as I can tell' Adama commented. 'You know if the Cylons all disappeared tomorrow morning I swear they'd be depressed about it' he observed only half in jest. 'Is the NCMI representative still due in an hour's time?' he checked.

'Yes, they're usually prompt too in my experience' Gray confirmed.

'They're all ex-military, it becomes ingrained after being screamed at enough for turning up to parade late' Adama replied. 'Why did you specifically want the meeting to take place here rather than_Pegasus_?' he asked. 'I love this ship but it's not nearly as impressive' he continued. 'Were you being sensitive to their feelings regarding _Pegasus_being a disgraced ship?'

'Honestly?' Gray responded. 'It's actually because _Galactica_ makes us look like we need a better break on the financial terms of the contract' he said. '_Pegasus_doesn't scream "we need investment capital and a discount on the next ammunition purchase" anywhere near as much.'

Adama frowned. 'So the wireless was right about you being a despicable schemer too then' he remarked. 'No offence intended.'

'None taken' Gray replied, 'I'm a politician' he admitted, seemingly without shame.

* * *

**_Note from the Author:_**

_The return of Julia Brynn who we last saw in Chapter Eight. _

_Prisoners of War can be held until after the conflict finishes so Gina doesn't get out of a cell despite Lampkin winning the case._


	19. Chapter 18

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_There are those who believe that life on Terra began out there, far across the universe, with tribes of humans who may have been the forefathers of the Egyptians, or the Toltecs, or the Mayans. That they may have been the architects of the great pyramids, or the lost civilizations of Lemuria or Atlantis._

_If you're one of those people then you're in the wrong class, this is Ancient Terran History not Colonial Theology or Ramblings of the Lunatic Fringe 101. Humanity 'out there' began on Terra not the reverse." _

**Professor Nils Sundquist – University of New Circe, 3048**

* * *

******City of McEvedy – New Circe – 3046CE**

Julia Brynn had been carrying her daughter but put her down once they got inside, the little girl staring wide-eyed around the room. 'This is a restaurant?' Julia asked her employer who was being his usual cool, calm and collected self. The water dripping from the raincoats they were all wearing spoiled his image though Romo Lampkin thought regretfully, and it was far too dark outside to get away with wearing his sunglasses.

'It's one of a chain of them' Lampkin replied. 'The owner wants to try and open another inside the City-State, I met him the day before yesterday and he invited me and any guests I wanted to bring along for a free meal tonight, said I should come see one of them for myself' he continued. 'I don't know what all the flags with the human skull and the bones are about' he admitted. The wooden chest nearby that seemed to be filled with what looked like plastic copies of golden cubits was another mystery.

The journey to McEvedy City on one of the VSTOL transport aircraft Minnesota Air was now running between the City-State and the capital of New Circe had been swift at least, although a little bumpy due to the minor storm that was brewing outside. As they flew through the inclement weather, witness to thunder and lightning aplenty, the pilot of the small aircraft had waxed-lyrical about dodging "Mother-Nature's very own PPC's" and was clearly enjoying himself rather more than his passengers. When her daughter got scared Julia had started telling her about how it was just the Lords of Kobol demonstrating their power before starting to sing the old nursery rhyme about Zeus and his thunderbolts to calm Kacey down. She was on the third verse just as they dropped out of a dark cloud and could finally see the lights of the landing pad below.

By the time the taxi they took from the airport got them to their final destination Kacey Brynn was well over her fear of the continuing storm. Now inside the restaurant she quickly noticed and fixed her eyes on a small number of other children who were in a cordoned-off area in one corner of the room set up to entertain them. Of pre-school age like her they were playing with brightly coloured toys, swings, a seesaw and a small climbing frame while an adult supervised them. Having spent much of her short life aboard a crowded ship and then in the drabness of the City-State Kacey was clearly overcome by curiosity and amazement. 'You can play later honey' Julia told her daughter.

'Arrr welcome to Pirate Petey's landlubbers, I be the captain of this vessel' a member of staff addressed them in English, though with a thick accent they'd never heard before. He was dressed in a truly bizarre outfit, wearing an eye-patch, and with a very fake looking plastic bird perched on his shoulder. 'If ye be wanting a table I'll steer ye along the right course and send a serving wench along to takes your order for grub and grog' he said.

Lampkin and Julia looked at each other. Although both spoke better English than the average Colonial they had very little idea what the man was talking about, the strange accent not helping at all. 'I'm sorry, but we're from the City-State' Julia replied. 'Could you say that again more slowly?' she requested.

'We were invited here by Peter Gayle' Lampkin added.

The restaurant manager looked at them and then laughed. 'Sorry' he apologised in a regular New-Circe accent that the Colonials had been told was a mix of what English had sounded like on Terra three centuries ago and the Scandinavian mix of the Rasalhague worlds. 'It's just force of habit to greet everyone that way' he said, smiling. 'Mr Gayle said he was expecting you, I'll take you to his table, best in the house as you'd expect' he continued. 'You can hang your coats up on the pegs there' he suggested, pointing them out.

Peter Gayle, AKA "Pirate Petey", the owner of the restaurant chain was already at the table reading a copy of the McEvedy City Times. A black man with grey hair he was also sipping on a glass of something which Lampkin, ever a careful study of people and situations, correctly guessed was quite alcoholic. 'Bang on time' Gayle said, smiling as he got up and shaking hands with Lampkin. 'Your family?' he queried.

'My office manager and her daughter' Lampkin corrected him. 'This is Julia Brynn and Kacey' he introduced them as Julia put the little girl in a child's high-chair the manager had brought over. The restaurant was only perhaps a quarter-full but more customers were starting to arrive now and it certainly wasn't quiet, a table full of boisterous young men and women in SLDF uniforms sat near the bar saw to that.

'Very pleased to meet you' Gayle said, now shaking hands with the woman. 'Anybody else coming later?' he asked the lawyer.

'No' Lampkin replied, he wasn't exactly awash with friendly acquaintances back home. Most of his clients in the City-State were criminals and to much of the rest of the Colonial population he was that "Toaster Lover Lawyer" who saved that Cylon murderer and Saboteur from the death penalty she richly deserved.

'Pity, it might have made for good word-of-mouth advertising once we're established over the border' Gayle said. 'Steph, we'll have three of today's specials and a child's platter' he called out to one of the waitresses.

'Any drinks Cap'n?' the young woman wearing a frilly blouse and very large earrings asked, noting down the food order on her pad.

'You two got any objections to alcohol?' the restaurant owner checked with his guests.

'None whatsoever' Lampkin replied quickly.

'I suppose I could have one' Julia said cautiously, after that one with Kasey along she would have to switch to a soft drink.

'Three Cuba Libres and a fruit juice' Gayle told the waitress who dashed off to fetch them. It wasn't every day the owner himself was there and she was hoping to maybe end up manager herself eventually.

'So what do you think of the place?' Gayle asked his guests. 'First impressions I mean.'

'It's... different' Julia responded carefully, not wishing to say the wrong thing.

'I don't think we get the cultural references' Lampkin chipped in himself.

'Not surprising I suppose' Gayle replied. 'You had sailing ships that were a little like that in your history I guess?' he queried, pointing to a painting on the wall of a wooden vessel floating on a blue sea with a tropical island in the distance behind it.

'Yes' Lampkin confirmed.

'Okay, well in our history pirates used to sail ships like that once upon a time, boarding ships and taking loot from them' he explained. 'They had their own dialect, dressed a certain way...'

'Like the staff here you mean?' Lampkin reasoned.

'The stereotype is a little exaggerated for the sake of effect but basically yes' Gayle confirmed. 'I just thought it would make a great theme, help with advertising and bring in more custom' he said. 'Also if you can get the kids nagging their parents to bring them in then you'll soon be raking in the cash.'

Julia took another look at the decor, it was all eye-catching she had to admit. 'But why piracy?' she asked. 'I kinda thought of the people here as not the sort to glorify something like that.'

'It's not like I'm encouraging youngsters to take looting and pillaging up as a career despite what my detractors used to say back when I was starting up' Gayle replied with a chuckle.

'And of course you're not originally from here are you' Lampkin noted.

Gayle chuckled. 'No, I was born on Althea's Choice' he responded. 'That's a long way coreward of here in the Taurian Concordat.'

'How did you get to New Circe?' Julia queried, having seen maps of the old Star League and the Successor States she knew that must be well over a thousand light-years distant.

'In chains' Gayle told her. 'You see I really _was_a pirate which is where the idea for the restaurants came from.'

Julia raised her eyebrows. 'You're joking' she said eventually.

'No really I was' the restaurant owner replied. 'Don't go thinking I was a pirate-leader or anything though, I was the ships cook on a jumpship that originally operated out of the Pirate Cluster' he said. 'After the captain of my ship crossed Bloody James Kaiten we had to leave the cluster and decided it would be best to re-locate way out the other side of the Magistracy of Canopus just in case, because Kaiten was the vengeful type' he continued his story. 'We were doing okay for a while, the Third Succession War was still going so there wasn't much effort by the military being put into hunting pirates, but then one day we jumped into a periphery system with a populated planet we'd heard rumours of and my pirate career basically ended at that point.'

'How so?' Lampkin queried.

'The planet there was called McEvedy's Folly and we had the bad luck to jump in just when some of the former residents were about to visit their poor relations' Peter Gayle said with a wry smile. 'Most of the crew were killed at the jump-point when the Captain was dumb enough to open fire on with our popguns on the big nasty warship that arrived in the system shortly after we landed our dropship, and most of the others bought-it when a dropship from the _SLS Rickenbacker_was sent down after the rest of us.'

'How did you survive?' Julia asked him.

'Unlike most of my compatriots I had the good sense to _surrender_when the angry, mean looking guys in SLDF uniform arrived and pointed guns at me' Gayle explained. 'I was also only a cook so even though piracy is a capital crime they didn't think it was quite right to hang me so they made me a bondsman instead and eventually carted me back here' he recalled. 'Funny thing is I never believed those stories about a mysterious Black Lion Class Battlecruiser that occasionally got spotted poking its nose around the Inner Sphere until I ended up meeting it first-hand.'

Romo Lampkin smiled. 'And they let you open a restaurant?'

Gayle nodded. 'I spent five years as a bondsman, became a citizen, did my two years in the army and then I scraped up enough money to open the first Pirate Petey's twenty-odd years back' he said. 'I knew how to cook Caribbean-style food, which made a change for everyone from lutefisk, and I cashed in on the notoriety I had back then as one of the few people living here that wasn't a born Wolverine' he told the Colonials.

'Here's yer grog' the waitress announced, arriving at the table with the tray of drinks which she distributed. 'Be you wanting anything else Sir?' she asked, putting on the same accent as the manager had earlier.

'Just keep mine coming wench' Gayle told her, himself adopting the fake accent now.

'Aye Cap'n' the waitress replied, turning and taking the empty tray away with her.

'Arr, it's a good crew I've got and no mistake' Gayle declared, 'Not a scurvy dog among them' he said before switching back to his real accent. 'Best part of hiring them is making them talk like that the whole way through the interview' he said, grinning.

Julia helped Kacey with her fruit juice before sipping her "Cuba Libre", it was very nice she decided. 'I'm surprised they'd let a pirate become a citizen' she observed, 'no offence meant' she added quickly when Lampkin gave he a disparaging look, you don't disrespect the clients.

'I've lived here since before you were born and I'm _still_trying to completely understand the society here' Peter Gayle replied then frowned as a thought occurred to him. 'You do know that these people aren't exactly representative of most folks in the Inner Sphere right?' he checked. 'I mean New Circers are plain weird' he opined.

'We think so too but it's nice to have the perspective of another outsider' Lampkin told him, sipping his own drink, it really wasn't bad at all he thought but he guessed they'd go down very easily and quickly leave you very drunk.

'You should look up the guys and gals from the Comstar Explorer Corps who got shanghaied too then' the owner of the restaurant chain suggested. 'The crew of the Explorer Corps jumpship the Wolvies snagged most recently haven't been here long enough to go native yet.'

'Are they in jail?' Julia asked in English. 'I thought they might need a lawyer' she added in Caprican to Lampkin who had cast a quizzical look her way.

'Nah, they've all taken citizenship now' Gayle replied. 'The Wolvies are insidious you know' he whispered conspiratorially.

'Insidious?' Lampkin repeated intrigued, leaning forward towards their host.

'Yeah, they're so damn fair, reasonable and well-meaning with a splash of idealism thrown in it's hard not to end up liking them, even if you once watched them hang one of your best mates from a gallows tree' Gayle explained. 'One day you'll wake up and you find you're married to a local, you've got a son and a daughter in the Kit Scouts and you'll wonder how the hell it happened' he said, smiling. 'Christ, they've even let a _machine_take citizenship and become a full-member of the Clan' he continued, rolling his eyes. 'There's an interview with the thing in today's newspaper' he added, opening his copy of the Times to the correct page and pointing out a picture of a smiling Sharon Valeri in SLDF uniform.

'We know, it wasn't exactly well-received on our side of the border' Lampkin replied, understatement of the century he thought.

'Best not start talking politics or it might spoil our meal' Gayle advised as it arrived. 'Jamaica jerk chicken' he told the Colonials. 'You'll not see pickled herring here' he added with a shudder. 'Great people on this planet but you can't say the same for most of the food.'

As they started to eat Romo Lampkin could see how this kind of cuisine would sell here on New Circe. 'You might want to see if you can hire chefs from Leonis' he suggested. 'They use a lot of spices there' he said. 'Or at least they did before the Cylon's dropped nuclear bombs on them' he added. 'They're trying to grow them here now but the climate isn't helping.'

'You know I was only thinking about opening a new place in the City-State but maybe there's also a market for your cuisine over here' Peter Gayle responded thoughtfully. 'I'd certainly be willing to help someone starting out if I was impressed by their cooking' he said. 'Plus if I'm in on the ground floor of the venture I stand to profit, not just get my throat cut by the competition' he continued. 'As for growing things I've got a load of greenhouses where I cultivate what I need for Pirate Petey's "secret herbs and spices" so if your people need a hand bringing back the tastes of home I might be able to help.'

Julia was helping Kacey with her own food. 'She likes this' she told the former pirate. 'She can be a little fussy sometimes.'

'It's nice that she can be fussy' Lampkin stated. 'Before we found New Circe we were eating stuff we would have thrown away before and there still wasn't enough of it' he said.

Gayle sighed. 'Been there' he said sadly. 'Grew up poor and hungry which is why I wanted to be a cook and didn't mind who I worked for' he said, reaching for his drink. 'Living standards were much better back before the Star League collapsed' he continued, 'not that it doesn't pain me to say anything good about the Star League' he added jokily.

'Why?' Julia asked. 'I thought everyone idolised that era in your history?'

'I'm originally Taurian' Gayle reminded her. 'The Star League invaded the Concordat during the Reunification War, we were happy being independent and we spent the next twenty years fighting them to try and get that message across' he said. 'We surrendered eventually, we couldn't beat the entire rest of the human race, but we made sure they knew they'd been in a fight' he added proudly.

'Our Tauron's are regarded as independently-minded people too' Lampkin remarked, choosing not to add "stubborn" as well, though it sounded appropriate for _both_groups named for that constellation.

'Maybe there is something to astrology then?' Gayle replied. If the child hadn't been there he might have used the old Taurian phrase people from the Concordat used to describe themselves "All bull, no bullshit".

The restaurant hadn't been too full of customers when they first arrived but it soon began to fill up once the rain outside subsided. Kacey wanted to play, becoming quite insistent about it, so Julia took her to the children's area where she immediately joined in a game the offspring of the other restaurant patrons were playing. Being blond like the majority of New Circers she almost seemed to merge in with the others her own age and Julia couldn't help but wonder if that was the likely eventual fate of all the Colonials. The "Star League" wouldn't have to force unification on the City-State by force, like they had the Taurian Concordat, they'd just absorb them.

Back at their table Gayle adopted a knowing smile. 'Good looking girl' he said. 'Bet you didn't spend long deciding to give her the job.'

'Not long at all, she was the only applicant' Lampkin replied honestly. 'If she'd looked like the biological goop on the inside of a Cylon Raider she'd still have got the job' he said. 'I was just lucky that the only person that was willing to work for me was actually able to bring some order out of the former chaos' he continued. 'That's one reason I brought her and Kacey along tonight' he said. 'I've got to keep her sweet, I can't risk her quitting, she's the only one that knows where everything is in the office now and she's better at remembering to feed the damn cat.'

'You know when she realises you'll have to give her a raise' Gayle responded, laughing.

'Yes, and then I'd have to raise my fees so don't let it slip when she gets back to the table or some of it'll come from your pocket' Lampkin advised.

'You'd better get those permits I need arranged then because if I can't open another Pirate Petey's over in the City-State I won't _need_a lawyer over there' Gayle replied.

'Meaning I can't get the permits results in you telling her' Lampkin responded, trying to sound disapproving.

Gayle grinned. 'Oh yeah' he confirmed, reaching for his drink.

Lampkin shook his head sadly. 'You really _are_a frakking pirate aren't you?'

'Arrr' Gayle replied in the affirmative before downing the rest of his rum, cola and lime cocktail in one gulp, along with the half-melted ice-cubes.

* * *

**SLDF Bunker Complex – New Circe – 3046CE**

Admiral William Adama had to admit the holographic technology being used to display the situation worked a lot better than trying to illustrate three-dimensional space on a two-dimensional map but like most of the Colonial population he was still just a little too uncomfortable with computers not to have to suppress a look of distain as his opposite number Admiral Franks walked around and through the projected starmap.

'Thanks to the ongoing recon and scouting missions being made by your Raptors we're confident that there aren't any Cylons within two standard jumps of New Circe' Franks began, the star systems which were being patrolled blinking green to show they were secure. 'Because our own capital ships can't travel more than sixty light-years at once if we're going to extend the perimeter further out it'll fall to the _Pegasus_alone to deal with any threat we might discover' he continued, himself trying to suppress an expression of distaste when mentioning the disgraced warship.

'Plus your own Titan Class Carriers' Adama noted.

Franks stepped clear of the hologram. 'The Titans are only carrier-dropships not capital vessels' he said. 'Now they've been re-fitted with your tylium-based hyperdrives they've got FTL ability but they still only carry eighteen aerospace fighters and I certainly wouldn't want to put them up against a basestar, even with the addition of laser anti-missile-systems and changing out the original direct-energy armament for LRPPC's' the SLDF Chief-Of-Staff continued. 'The addition of the new hybrid autocannon design will give them the ability to defend themselves against multiple squadrons of raiders but they just can't dish out the firepower needed to take down real warships.'

'_Pegasus_can't take on a Cylon taskforce by herself either' Adama pointed out. 'She could deal with one or two basestars easily taking minimal damage in the process but after what we've done to their fleet I don't think they'll generally be travelling in ones or twos' he said.

'I'm not entirely sure if that's a good or a bad thing' Franks replied. 'Tactically it's a problem because with _Galactica_ and the _Zughoffer Weir_under refit and repair we're short on major fleet assets to put up against a large force at the moment' he said. 'strategically however if the Cylons are concentrating their own forces they can't cover nearly as much turf.'

Adama looked thoughtful. 'You know we might want to keep them off-balance by making another foray into their territory' he suggested. 'Nothing like on the scale of the expedition back to Cyrannus but poke at the frakkers where they live so they tie down even more of their ships as far away from us as possible by prioritising protecting their own ass.'

'Agreed' Franks replied. 'I was thinking about striking at their logistics chain myself' he continued, smiling. 'Tylium is great stuff but it's rare, and without our fusion technology the Cylons are entirely reliant upon it to fuel their war-machine.'

'Take out their mines and refineries, cripple their ability to support their fleet and also ensure they can't keep thousands of raiders constantly jumping around looking for us' Adama responded to the notion appreciatively.

'Offensive operations are good misdirection anyhow as you said' Franks observed. 'The more time we have before the Cylons realise that there just aren't very many of us out here and track us down the more time we have to upgrade our ships with each others technology' he said. 'If we're lucky we'll have far-jumping before they get their act together...'

'And if we can do nine-hundred light-year jumps we'll have such an edge in strategic mobility they'll be utterly frakked' Adama said with obvious satisfaction. 'If the latest technical reports crossing my desk are true it won't be the major undertaking we first feared to modify standard Colonial FTL Drives with the upgrades the Cylons came up with' he told Franks. 'It'll triple our fuel efficiency at least, greatly improving our own logistics' he explained.

'That's good news but the big step in capability will be if we can start using Cylon navigation computers' Franks replied. 'If I remember right just having one of those doing the math for you meant a journey which would have taken over two-hundred jumps only took ten.'

Adama frowned. 'I'd want a lot of reassurance those things were completely isolated from remote access before I'd think about putting them in our ships' he responded. 'Your computers would be safer.'

'Our electronics industry would be very pushed coming up with hundreds of computers good enough to do the job as well and half as compact' Franks replied. 'We're able to maintain a much higher technological base than our population should allow but we're already stretched to the limit right now' he said. 'If it wasn't for us bringing automated factories with us, and knowing how to repair and re-tool the things, unlike the Successor States, we wouldn't be able to build battlemechs or aerospace fighters here' he continued. 'And we still need to import things from the Inner Sphere every few years to replace systems that break down' he admitted. 'We don't just standardise equipment, mount the same weaponry on mechs, fighters and ground vehicles because it makes good logistical sense, we simply can't afford _not_to.'

William Adama laughed. 'Sometimes I forget that just because there's far more of you on this planet than there is us there still isn't actually that many of you' he said.

'If you'd arrived in a couple of hundred years New Circe would have been full of us but we only started seriously ramping up our population growth within the last two generations because we wanted to get properly established here before we buried ourselves up to our eyeballs in children' Franks told him. 'Even so we're trying to cap the annual growth to 3.5% so we can build infrastructure as fast as we breed kits.'

'You know that doesn't sound all that high to me, I mean what with the Iron Wombs' Adama replied.

'It'll double our population every twenty years' Franks responded. 'If we let that continue for a century and a half there will be something like a hundred and thirty million of us.'

'Two hundred and sixty million twenty years after that' Adama realised.

'The long-term plan is to throttle back and keep the annual population growth under a peak of ten million, because it gets ridiculous if you don't, but that still means we hit a billion Wolverines in something like two-hundred and fifty years time' Franks said. 'New Circe will be a few degrees warmer by then so we'll have no problem supporting them all agriculturally'

'My people had better start making babies fast' Adama said quietly to himself. 'Did you hear what your mechwarrior and my aviation specialist named the first child born to a Colonial and a Wolverine?' he asked, voice now loud enough to hear.

'Telegonus wasn't it?' Franks replied.

Adama nodded. 'It means "Born far away" in the earliest dialects of Caprican and Tauron.'

'So I read in the newspapers' Franks responded. 'I suppose that's what you get when a kid who studied Ancient Greece and its language at College hooks up with a girl that still speaks a variation of it' he remarked. 'Telegonus was a son of Circe and Odysseus who became lovers when he ended up on her island while returning from the Trojan War.'

'It's very apt every way you look at it' Adama observed.

'Bet you fifty of your cubits the kid hates it when he realises he's the only one on the entire planet though' Franks wagered.

'No bet' Adama replied, shaking his head. 'My family was originally from Tauron but adopted Caprican names when we emigrated there' he told the other flag officer. 'For a while we called ourselves "Adams" not Adama just to try and fit in' he said.

'I suppose the question is will the kid end up probably being the shortest boy in the class over here or the tallest over in the City-State' Franks asked rhetorically, as he used a remote control to zoom out the starmap and rotate the image being projected. 'If we start expanding patrols rimwards and spinwards towards Kobol and spreading out from there it'll give us the best chance of running into the Cylons' he reasoned, getting back to business. 'I'm reliably informed that one of our jump-capable Titan aerospace carriers should be able to haul a Triumph class along with it which is very useful for an idea a few of the guys at Staff College came up with after studying your reports of previous military encounters with the Cylons.'

'What idea?' Adama queried.

'They were studying your attack on a Cylon tylium mining facility on an asteroid a few weeks after you escaped the Fall of the Colonies' Franks replied. 'They say it was very nicely done by the way, good use of diversion tactics.'

'It would never work again the way we did it before' Adama noted. 'The Cylons learn from their mistakes, if their mines aren't ringed with air-defence batteries and have at least twice as many Raiders guarding them I'd be surprised.'

'Which is exactly _why_ we want to do it again' Franks told him. 'If the humans managed to pull it off a second time they'd increase the defences even more' he said. 'Based on your reports there were a hundred and forty raiders assigned to defend that facility you destroyed, it's most likely a considerably higher number for an equivalent base now and if _that_still proved to be insufficient...'

'Then with luck they'll end up tying down an entire basestars worth of raiders on every mine they own between here and the old Armistice Line' Adama finished for him.

Franks smirked. 'The Cylons are machines but they aren't exactly cold, calculating and logical' he said. 'Just nuking one of their bases wouldn't gnaw at their ego like capturing one would so that's what we plan to do' he said. 'If we can bring along one of your cargo vessels we can haul away any refined fuel we find there and as much raw ore as we can' he continued. 'We hold it long enough to take everything worth taking, or until overwhelming forces arrive, and then we skedaddle.'

'You want to capture it _intact_?' Adama replied, surprised by that. When the Colonials had carried out such an operation they had simply blown the place up and landed their own mining teams.

'That's what the Triumph Dropship is for' Franks explained. 'We know the bases are going to have serious air-defence but we're going to assault the first one we find from the _ground_by landing squads of powered-armour and a battlemech lance, they're rated for vacuum.'

'How in hades are you going to do that on an asteroid with negligible gravity?' Adama wanted to know. 'Those big robots can't even walk in conditions like that.'

'They will if we put your artificial gravity plating on the soles of their feet' Franks replied grinning. 'It'll be just like using magnetic boots to walk over the hull of a ship' he said. 'We're already rigging up a Mercury III to try it out on one of our own asteroid mines in this system.'

William Adama laughed. 'You might not have all the resources in the universe but you're damn inventive in using what you do have' he said.

'Just because we're gestated in boxes doesn't mean we're stuck thinking in them' Franks replied.

* * *

**Colonial One (Office of the President) – Colonial City-State – 3046 CE**

President Laura Roslin looked at the pile of paperwork she had to read through before her meeting with the Quorum tomorrow and groaned. It would only get worse once the new People's Council was elected, reforming what had been the lower house of the Colonial Executive and adding another body which would feel it had the legal right and democratic mandate to use up her time.

'I hope that groan wasn't because you heard me arriving' a man spoke up from the door, he sounded amused.

'Not at all Wallace' Roslin replied, 'you're about the only professional politician I _don't_mind the company of' she told him. 'Come in, take a seat.'

Wallace Gray, Secretary for Commerce and Development of the Colonial City-State, entered and sat down opposite the President. 'You know she might have been a Cylon infiltrator but Tory Foster was better at keeping the amount of needless paperwork crossing your desk to a minimum than your new aide.'

'Of course, she was a walking talking cross between a calculator and a filing cabinet' Roslin replied. 'Even if she didn't know it' she added. 'So what can I ask if the reason for this unannounced visit?' she wondered.

Gray leaned forward in his chair. 'We're looking at another labour strike being called and I need you to give me some leeway in authority to deal with it' he replied.

'Gods damn it' Roslin exclaimed. 'Who is it now?' she wanted to know. 'It had better not be the tylium refinery workers again because if it is I swear to Zeus I'll send in the marines before I'll give them another payrise' she practically snarled.

'No, it's the construction crews this time' Gray told her. 'They were willing to work long hours when we were trying to put up basic housing for everyone but now there's a roof over everyone's head they say that they want overtime if they have to work longer shifts than was normal back in the Colonies.'

Roslin took off her glasses and squeezed the bridge of her nose, she felt a headache coming on, a not uncommon occurance 'I thought that they were as enthusiastic as everyone else at the idea of recreating the City of the Gods on Kobol here in the City-State?' she asked.

'They are, in principle at least' Gray confirmed. 'It's just hard work and off the record I can see their point' he said. 'Let's face it, with the weather on this planet would _you_like to be working outside for as many hours a day as they are?' he asked rhetorically.

Roslin looked out the porthole of the grounded starship which was now the seat of Colonial Government, it was raining again. 'Not really' she conceded. 'But we're rebuilding our civilisation here, trying to make things better for our children and grandchildren as well as preserve our culture.'

'Which is why I don't think we can afford to reduce the number of man-hours we're putting into the big capital projects' Gray responded. 'With our current fiscal situation I don't want to give them a basic payrise or agree overtime payments, the precedent set wouldn't be good for us if nothing else, so if you want my opinion we'll need to reduce their hours instead' he said.

'But you said you don't think we can do that?' Roslin queried, confused.

'I don't think we can cut back on the total man-hours being worked but we can reduce the number being put in per worker if we increase the number of people working construction' Gray replied. 'That's what I need your authority for' he said. 'With a Presidential Decree I can transfer people from other jobs to the ones we need done more urgently.'

'I wasn't aware we had a large pool of unused labour to draw on' Roslin replied.

Gray leaned back in his chair again. 'We've got hundreds of people with construction experience building temples and shrines' he reminded her. 'It might be good, pious work but if I can divert half to two-thirds of them to tasks that are more practical than spiritual, and if I can talk another couple of bulldozers out of our neighbours by pleading destitution again, I should be able to keep everything on schedule without triggering a labour strike or bankrupting us.'

Laura Roslin blinked. 'Are you trying to prove that you really _are_evil?' she responded. 'The religious members of the Quorum and most of the priesthood and oracles would go insane' she pointed out seriously.

'I know' Gray replied. 'But it's not like you've got much of the religious vote already' he noted.

'It's not just an issue of trying to win the next election' Roslin responded curtly, her voice rising in pitch. 'For a lot of our people their faith is all they have left and after the revelations of what we found, or didn't find on Kobol it's shaky enough already' she said.

Wallace Gray sighed. 'Madam President' he began formally, 'we're trying to do too much with too little' he told her flatly. 'We've already reduced military expenditures to the point at which the Adama boys are getting tetchy and devalued the Cubit to help exports, there just isn't that much more I can do' he admitted. 'We should be a little better off once our new factories are established and we can balance the trade situation with the Wolvies but at the moment we're trying to plough a hefty chunk of our resources into long-term capital projects without addressing the shorter term "guns or butter" issue.'

'Guns or butter?' Roslin queried.

'Thirteenth Tribe metaphor I heard' Gray replied. 'It means do you spend what excess your economy has beyond its basic needs on defence or on luxuries' he explained. 'Right now, temples are butter' he said.

Roslin frowned. 'I just don't think it would be wise to try and solve our immediate problems in a way that might cause a political backlash and worse a crisis in either faith or government' she said.

'In that case I think we're going to have to have to let our construction timetable slip unless you want to risk a strike' Gray told her.

'Wouldn't exactly be the first government program with cost or time overruns' Roslin replied with a shrug.

'That's certainly true' Gray conceded. 'Oh, while I'm here NCMI has expressed an interest in developing a new missile based on our Lightning-Javelin' he said. 'It'll likely take a while to develop but they're willing to pick up most of the R&D costs and base production here as long as we offer them a tax break.'

'How _much_of a tax break?' Roslin wanted to know.

'Enough to make it a sweet deal for them if the production run is long enough but not enough that we still won't benefit from it ourselves' Gray replied. 'They think that by sacrificing range they can increase the size of the warhead enough to make the things viable against heavily armoured vehicles like their own tanks and battlemechs.'

Roslin shook her head. 'Even when they're at war with the Cylons they're _still_thinking about fighting other humans' she said disparagingly.

'The other Clans are their bogeymen, that won't change anytime soon' Gray responded. 'If we can make a few cubits from them with these hypothetical "Thunder-Javelins" they're talking of I say lets take their gun-money and use it to buy butter for ourselves.'

'If you can get a proposal typed up I promise to look over it' Roslin told him. 'Eventually' she added, looking at her existing pile of paperwork again.

Gray laughed. 'Maybe you should adopt one of the local customs, have Tory Foster beaten up, declare her a Bondswoman and put her back to work clearing this backlog up for you' he suggested.

'I might just do that if I hadn't read the reports on the "Final Five" we have in custody' Roslin replied. 'She's suffering from severe existential angst supposedly and just mopes around all day refusing to talk to anyone.'

'Gods' Gray exclaimed. 'They made them too human by half didn't they?' he asked rhetorically.

'The only one doing better than he was is Saul Tigh and that's only because he's finally gotten over the alcohol withdrawal' Roslin replied. 'Did you know his wife still refuses to accept she's a Cylon and thinks it's all a plot set up by Bill Adama and I?' she said incredulously, rolling her eyes.

'And the other two?' Gray queried.

'Sam Anders is probably the sanest of the lot, he's just pissed off at himself and the universe' Roslin answered. 'Tyrol meanwhile is suffering from severe depression and they've got him under suicide watch just in case' she continued. 'We're still holding them as POW's for now because thanks to the Gina-Six precedent they've got certain rights in law and besides which the lawyers aren't sure where we stand on trying enemy spies for espionage when they had no idea whatsoever that they were spies.'

'And the Six herself?' Gray asked.

'Much better now that we're leaving her cell door ajar at night, she knows the guards will shoot her if she tries to go through it but she's been much more cooperative since we took the advice from the Wolvies on that one' Roslin told him. 'We're having to keep her segregated from the others, she thinks they'd try and kill her and she might well be right.'

'You know between hearing that and what SLDF Intelligence have said publicly about the One's being arrogant megalomaniacs and the Two's all thinking they're some kind of oracle with an insight into the mind of their god it sounds like the bulk of the Cylon race is crazier than a sack of ferrets' Gray decided. 'Robots should be more mentally stable wouldn't you think?'

President Laura Roslin nodded. 'I'm not sure whether I was more afraid of them when I thought they were cold, heartless machines than I am now I think they're mostly just frakking deranged' she told him honestly.

* * *

**_Note from the Author:_**

_Peter Gayle, former pirate and now owner of "Pirate Petey's", the most successful restaurant chain on New Circe, originally hails from Althea's Choice in the Taurian Concordat. He has an interesting outsiders perspective on the Wolverines and the "Star League in Exile" which I thought might be a good add to the story._ _The Pirate's Haven is a cluster of stars that used to belong to the Taurian Concordat. Pirate gangs based there attack ships and planets in the Periphery rimward of Terra. The Magistracy of Canopus is another Periphery State and the closest to McEvedy's Folly where the Wolverines were based before making the long trek to New Circe. The pirate jumpship Peter Gayle was on was very unfortunate to get there just when the SLS Rickenbacker, AKA "Black Lion of Merope" was visiting!_ _The Taurons of Battlestar Galactica seemed to be as much a pain for the government and fleet of the Twelve Colonies as the Taurian Concordat was to the Star League. Some people don't integrate well!_

_The two Titan Class Carrier-Dropships belonging to the Wolverines saw action against the Cylons during the battle we saw in Chapter 13. They've since been refitted with Colonial FTL so they don't need to be carried by other vessels and indeed can haul a smaller Triumph Class with them (docked belly to belly)._ _The Colonials used the navigation computer from a captured Heavy Raider to make a journey in 10 jumps which would have otherwise taken 241 in nBSG episode 2:19 Lay Down Your Burdens. In episode 4:12 A Disquiet Follows My Soul Cylon modifications to Colonial Drives triples how far they can go with their remaining tylium stockpile._ _Star League Automated Factories are largely Lostech in the Inner Sphere, they're basically at the level of feed raw materials in one end and get battlemechs out the other. The Wolverines took theirs with them when they left the Clans, which is how they've managed to not only maintain but improve their military despite limited numbers, but much of their manufacturing is a great deal less advanced._ _The Battle for the Tylium Asteroid took place shortly after the Fall of the Twelve Colonies._ _Telegonus (meaning "Born far away" in Ancient Greek) was indeed a son of Circe and Odysseus. His story is told in a sequel to the Odyssey called the Telegony where he goes to seek out his father once he grows up (Telegonus accidentally kills his father not knowing who he is but this is an Ancient Greek epic after all!)._

_Grand plans are all very well if you've got the resources to devote to them but the Colonials are even shorter on those than the Wolverines. Wallace Gray is a technocrat and logically building temples isn't a good use of manpower right now but he's not putting enough emphasis on the human factor. Roslin is a better people-person really, they're actually not a bad team but neither would be very good at running the City-State without the other. Labour disputes seem a common theme in Colonial society, they come up several times in the series. The Colonial Lighting-Javelin is a good missile if you're using it against Cylon Raiders but it doesn't have enough punch to be much use in a battlemech fight. A rack of a heftier missile developed from them however ("Thunder-Javelin" sounded appropriate to me) might be a good weapon._


	20. Chapter 19

_I own neither Battlestar Galactica nor Battletech and don't claim to. There's no point suing me for borrowing the storylines or characters unless you want a share of an underpaid Civil Servants salary and trust me it wouldn't be worth the trouble._

* * *

"_On dark nights, I want them to wake up in fear that some of us might come after them – that some of us may yet survive."_

_****__Wolverine saKhan Franklin Hallis – Battle of Barbados, 2824_

* * *

**Franklin Hallis Airbase – New Circe – 3046CE**

'Don't look so frakking smug Kat' Kara Thrace whispered to the other Colonial pilot stood beside her. 'You didn't get this job because you're a better pilot than me' she said.

Captain Louanne Katraine smirked. 'No it's because you're a mental case' she whispered back.

'I am _not_a mental case' Starbuck responded angrily, and loudly enough this time to earn herself a glare from Commander Lee Adama as the three of them stood together outside the doors of a huge aircraft hanger. On the podium beside them a member of the Quorum of Twelve and some politician from the New Circe parliament were addressing a smattering of dignitaries and the press and had been droning on far too long already.

Eladio Puasha was the member for Scorpia, a colony which had a long record of supporting high levels of defence expenditure and increased military budgets which was why he had quickly volunteered to represent the City-State here today. Cynics tended to point out that since the majority of warships had been built in the Scorpion Fleet Shipyards the enthusiasm for the military on Scorpia wasn't too surprising but Puasha and his predecessors firmly denied this was the main reason they had historically tended to filibuster any attempt in the Quorum to reduce the number of new battlestars being constructed.

Puasha was not known either for his brevity or his rhetorical skills alas and had already been speaking over three times as long as his local counterpart before a few less-than-subtle yawns from important people in the audience got the message across he needed to wrap up his speech which he began to do with another final repetition of how much all the peoples that now lived on New Circe owed to their gallant heroes in uniform.

Having long tuned the politicians out the Colonial pilots were still quietly talking among themselves. 'It's not an opinion you being mental Starbuck' Louanne told her. 'If you weren't frakked up upstairs you wouldn't have so much trouble trying to use a neurohelmet' Katraine pointed out.

Thrace would have loved to snap back but annoyingly it was true. While it had been quickly established that her problem with interfacing with an SLDF neurohelmet wasn't because she was a Cylon the fact remained that there seemed to be an unusual physical abnormality with her brain which prevented her being able to fly one of the 13th Tribe's aerospace fighters to anything like its full potential. They simply weren't about to hand millions of cubits worth of aircraft over to a pilot that couldn't get the most out of it which was why she was just present for show whereas Kat was going to get the glory.

After finally finishing his speech Eladio Puasha called on Lee Adama, Commander of the battlestar _Pegasus_, and of course son of the head of the Colonial Fleet, to say a few words.

Lee stepped forward and smiled for the cameras. 'Good morning ladies and gentlemen' he greeted the small crowd of civilians. 'I think we're all equally pleased that's it's a sunny day today which I take to be an auspicious beginning to this new chapter in the Colonial Fleet and I hope you'll be able to get as many pictures and ask as many questions as you want before the clouds roll in again' he said.

Adama was wearing his dress uniform and he suspected he had put on some weight recently because the jacket was a little tight. 'As you know for several months we have been training a number of our pilots to fly SLDF aerospace fighters in preparation for the introduction of such craft into Colonial Service' he said. 'With the able assistance of our Wolverine allies and their excellent flight-training program we now have a small cadre of pilots qualified to fly Star League combat-aircraft which is perfect timing considering we now also have the ideal fighter to put them in' he announced, signalling with his hand that it was time to open the hanger doors.

The huge doors slid open, the hanger inside deliberately dark but a large and menacing shadow starting to emerge as a shape was rolled out towards the sunlight outside.

'Mine, all mine' Kat whispered to Starbuck who muttered something obscene back to her as the new prototype aerospace fighter was wheeled out of the hanger, camera flashes starting to pop.

Lee Adama had turned to watch the machine come into view himself but he now faced the press once again. 'May I please introduce the latest weapon in our arsenal against the Cylons' he said. 'The Avar omnifighter' he announced.

With its normally down-turned wings folded up so they weren't scraping the ground the 35 ton Avar nonetheless still possessed a sleekness which the heavier Visigoth and much heavier Kirghiz could not. Painted up in fleet colours and with the insignia of the Twelve Colonies emblazoned on her she also looked damn sweet Starbuck thought jealously as Kat's visible smugness increased. 'Mine, all mine' Katraine said happily as the fighter completely cleared the hanger and stopped moving.

'The second prototype is nearing completion and after testing the Avar will enter full-scale production for both New Circe and the Colonies' Adama told the press. 'Modifications to battlestars _Pegasus_ and_Galactica_will enable them to carry and launch a number of Avars adding additional capability and helping us to maintain our edge in military technology over the Cylons.'

'What armament will they carry?' a local journalist queried.

'I'll hand you over to Captain Louanne Katraine who is going to be our test pilot for the Avar and who can answer any questions you might have on the fighter' Adama replied. 'Captain' he introduced her and beckoned her up.

'Enjoy the limelight while it lasts' Starbuck told Kat as the other pilot stepped forward to stand next to the Avar, smiling broadly.

Katraine gently patted the side of her new fighter, the thick armour plate cool to the touch. 'Firstly for close-in work we've got four 30mm Colonial Kinetic Energy Weapons in the nose here with around twice the total ammunition carried by a Mark VII Viper for each' she began. 'We've also got a forward-facing medium pulse laser in each wing and another one facing aft to discourage any raiders from getting in close enough on the Avar's ass to use their own cannons effectively' she said smiling. 'For missiles we'll be carrying Lightning-Javelins, lots of them' she added.

'How fast is it?' someone from the Colonial press corps asked.

'In terms of acceleration the Avar can pull five gees' Kat replied. 'Seven and a half on overthrust' she added. 'One change we've made from the original design is a larger fuel tank so we can get the most use out of her performance' she continued. 'Cylon birds can't burn as hard or for as long and we know they have difficultly trying to counter that advantage after our analysis of how other light aerospace fighters performed against them.'

Starbuck chuckled to herself. Although "light" by the standards of the 13th the Avar was still several times heavier than a fully-loaded Viper and considerably less agile. It should be a better dogfighter than the Visigoth though, itself much more manoeuvrable than a Kirghiz, and hopefully wouldn't have the extreme problems the other omnifighters had trying to keep on the tail of even Heavy Raiders.

'In close-in fighting we plan to use Avar fighters to slash through enemy formations, using their superior acceleration to quickly reach high velocities and taking out as many raiders as we can as we tear through them' Lee Adama spoke up again. 'Cylon fighters simply can't keep up with an Avar in a stern chase for very long' he said, miming the situation with his hands, 'even with their turbos at maximum they can barely pull the same acceleration as an Avar which is running _without_overthrust and raiders don't carry enough tylium in their fuel tanks to use turbos for very long' he said.

'Thank the gods for fusion' Kat said quietly, patting the Avar fondly again. Hydrogen fuel to run this thing on was cheap and plentiful so you could bolt on huge engines and burn fuel with abandon. Tylium had nearly as much energy density, and by its nature allowed you to make more compact engines with better thrust-to-weight ratios, but you just couldn't afford to be so profligate with it.

Rayson Aerospace had been awarded the contract to develop and produce the Avar, much to the surprise and chagrin of New Circe Military Industries the planets largest defence company. Over the years NCMI had gradually bought out and absorbed most of its competitors having a near-monopoly in fighter production until now, with Rayson managing to hold on only because they had managed to underbid NCMI for aircraft maintenance contracts and the supply of spare parts. When it came to the Avar the over-confidence of NCMI in being absolutely _certain_they would get the work meant they had put in too much of a mark-up per airframe allowing Rayson to not only be substantially cheaper but also accuse the larger corporation of being unpatriotic and trying to fleece the taxpayer. Thus it was that James Rayson-Merino the President of Rayson Aerospace was the second most smug person there after Louanne Katrine and as the latter answered more questions from the press, and posed in front of the new fighter for photographs, he himself was wondering if it might be a good opportunity to approach Lee Adama, who surely had he ear of his father, and ask if the Colonial Fleet had thought much about maybe cooperating on the design of a next-generation Viper?

Technically the Avar was anything but new of course. Albeit far from obsolete and much better than the equivalent Inner Sphere designs the Avar had first been produced by the Kerensky Loyalist Clans way back in 2878 and was among the oldest fighters still used by them. Of course the only reason the Wolverines actually had the plans for them at all was because the fighter was so old, a more recent Clan fighter like the thirty year-old Jagatai was known only by name and the Wolverines hadn't even _heard_of the fourteen year old Jenghiz yet.

Although the Wolverines had managed to maintain a secret line of communication back to the area of space occupied by the unsuspecting Clans, via the long-ranging Jarnfolk Traders and the Dark Caste who were quietly aligned with the aerospace fighter enthusiasts of Clan Burrock, contact was intermittent and it sometimes took decades for information or schematics to gradually work their way down to New Circe. The Visigoth was the latest fighter the Wolverines had the plans for and that itself was nearly a century old making it over twice as ancient as even the Viper Mark II's the Colonials were mothballing as fast as _Pegasus_could churn out Mark VII's. The fact was that New Circe simply couldn't afford the R&D to even attempt to come up with anything better than even these older Clan designs so it didn't bother trying.

Until they got their hands on Kobolian tech the only weapon system the Wolverines had which was indisputably superior to their rivals was the LRPPC and that was only due to having been way ahead of the curve in Particle-Projection-Cannon research when they fled the clan worlds. Even though it had been the Wolverines who had created the Mercury II, forerunner of all subsequent modular "omnimech" designs, over the last two centuries New Circe had even fallen behind there and their own latest Mercury III and Pulverizer II omnimechs were less polished technologies, taking longer to switch out weapons and requiring a little more maintenance to keep them running.

As Louanne Katraine climbed into the Avar's cockpit for another few photographs however she didn't consider that she was getting into an old machine. It had come straight from the factory, still had that "New-Fighter Smell" and the systems inside were pure science-fiction from her perspective. This thing carried rapid-fire _Pulse-Lasers_for frak's sake, she thought gleefully, three of them and each able to cause more damage and recharge more quickly than the single laser slung under Vipers these days. Just getting on the ass of a raider and shredding it with the four KEW's in the nose would be a sight to see in itself and imagining the dismay of being a Cylon and watching your own cannon shells just sparking off the Avar's thick armour was too pleasing for words.

'Brighten up Starbuck, you can't get the job of flying every new bird' Lee Adama told the Galactica's CAG and usual choice for test-pilot. 'If it makes you feel better I'll bet half the Viper pilots we have wished it was _them_who got to fly that jury-rigged Stealth-Fighter Tyrol and the rest put together, or bring home that Raider you hotwired.'

'Half my ass, it was three quarters at least' Starbuck replied before sighing. 'She gets asked out more than me too dammit' Thrace complained.

'Just dye your hair brown and only wear flat shoes and you'll do better' Lee advised deadpan. Katraine was a diminutive brunette, in Wolverine New Circe that meant cute and unusual and therefore she got brought a lot of drinks in bars and rarely had any trouble picking up the hottest single guy in the room.

'How the frak did we end up on the only planet in the galaxy where blonds don't have more fun?' Starbuck asked rhetorically. 'It's against the natural order of things' she protested.

Lee tried and failed not to laugh, Kara pouting with indignation was just funny. 'Maybe it's because other guys don't think they can compete in the performance stakes with a cylon athlete' he suggested.

Kara narrowed her eyes at him. 'Well _you_ certainly couldn't these days tubby' she told him, poking him in the stomach. 'Too much time sitting on your ass in your quarters doing paperwork and not enough time in the gym' she told him. 'Can you even _fit_in a viper cockpit any more?' she asked, smirking.

'It's not easy being the Commander of a Battlestar' Lee retorted. 'I don't get much free-time for exercise.'

'You would if you skipped a few more meals instead of inventing new ones between breakfast and brunch' Starbuck told him.

'Gods, I thought I'd get a break from this today' Lee said. 'I get enough of it from Anastasia' he said. 'I mean Dualla' he corrected himself quickly.

Starbuck grinned. 'So it's "Anastasia" now is it?' she asked. 'I hope we're not violating half the rules in the Fleet Handbook by sticking it to our Executive Officer are we?' she queried.

'None of your business' Lee replied curtly.

'Well hopefully you'll be able to burn off some of that excess weight in her bunk at least' Kara suggested.

Lee Adama bit back a sharp reply. It's your own fault for being here, he thought to himself, Dad offered to cover this one as long as you took his place at the function at the Lord Protectors mansion, wishing good luck to the personnel heading coreward to look for new tylium supplies and rimward to disrupt Cylon supply lines and their own tylium mining operations.

Kara leaned in close to Lee. 'I mean if you put on many more pounds you'll have to rely on her to tell you if your dick's still there or not because _you_sure as hell won't be able to see it' she said quietly so nobody else could overhear.

'Pray to Zeus and Circe you never get reassigned to the _Pegasus_ after _that one_Thrace' Lee warned her seriously with a growl.

'What good is life if you don't live it on the edge?' Starbuck replied, happy enough now after yanking Lee's chain now to almost forget about Kat getting the choice job and the hot new ride.

Almost.

* * *

**Binary Star System – 260 Light-Years Rimwards of New Circe – 3046CE**

The Titan Class jump-dropship _SLS Themis_, carrying a smaller Triumph Class less than half her mass beneath her in a manner which had led it to be quickly nicknamed the "missionary position", arrived thirty seconds before the Colonial Transport _Thera Sita_ and was already launching a fighter CAP by the time the other vessel arrived. Having previously scouted the system ahead of their arrival with one of the two Raptors the _Thera Sita_carried on her hull the small force of ships wasn't expecting trouble, but this far out from New Circe in the direction of Cylon territory there was no sense in not playing it safe.

The taskforce built around the _Themis_ had just performed thirteen relatively middling jumps out of New Circe in the space of sixteen hours and for the sake of the FTL's and the crews they were now going to give both a rest. Commodore Edvin Benedict commanding the mission would have liked to press on and get to grips with the Cylons quickly but he still wasn't entirely confident of the Colonial FTL, or the Colonials themselves over on _Thera Sita_for that matter.

Ideally a colonial jump drive and its integral tylium fuel tank would mass about ten percent of the vessel it was installed in. The one mounted in the _Themis_ just about reached that ratio but because they were also hauling the Triumph the range and fuel efficiency of the craft was negatively effected, cutting the safe level for a properly calculated jump from around thirty light-years to around twenty. It wasn't quite as restricted as the Kirghiz Jumpfighter of course, the Raptor FTL fitted to the hundred-ton fighter was designed for a craft _half_ that mass and would likely slag itself if you tried to go much over fifteen light-years, with ten being the recommended jump distance, but carrying the other dropship was still holding the Titan back. Between the diminished jump-range, all the damn army types on the Triumph _and_the damn Munchkins Commodore Benedict wasn't completely happy in his work.

Armed to the teeth with a multitude of LRPPC's, Medium Pulse Lasers, a fair chunk of the first production run of the new model autocannons as well as laser Anti Missile Systems, the _SLS Themis_ was capable of chewing up and spitting out multiple squadrons of raiders at once, even without the support of the eighteen aerospace fighters she carried. This was not to say that the four new Kirghiz "Jumpfighters", twelve Visigoths and a pair of ancient but nonetheless usefully fast Tridents weren't a nice addition to the fleet of course. The fighters added plenty of additional strike and defensive capability to the expedition, certainly more than the token quartet of Mark VII Vipers also clamped to the _Thera Sita_next to the Raptors anyway Benedict thought with distain.

'Tell the ranking Munchkin that he should instruct his crew to get some sleep' Benedict told his communications officer. 'They're already half-blind, we don't want them half awake too when we need them' he added. 'Since we're here a while we'll scout the surrounding systems with Raptors just in case the enemy do happen to have a nearby presence' he decided, looking over a holographic starchart. The small Colonial craft had a decent sensor suite and their DRADIS had considerably more functionality than the equivalent SLDF equipment, if less raw power when actively scanning for ships. 'Assign one Kirghiz to each Raptor as escort' Commodore Benedict ordered. The Munchkins would naturally need looking after.

'That'll restrict how far out the Raptor's can range Sir' the tactical officer pointed out. 'Our jumpfighters don't have their legs.'

'I'm fully aware of that Lieutenant-Commander' Benedict replied curtly. 'Just do it' he said in a tone that indicated no further argument would be tolerated.

Over on the _Thera Sita_ Captain Felix Gaeta was still trying to get used to his first command. True it was originally a civilian vessel, and was far from being a warship by any description, but by Act of Quorum it was now legally part of the Colonial Fleet and it was _his_ship and his responsibility. He didn't really know whether to be immensely pleased with himself that Admiral Adama had decided he was worthy and capable of the job, or else terrified, but regardless he knew his duty and was going to carry it out.

Ideally Gaeta would have preferred someone other than Commodore Benedict to be in overall charge of the mission however. Although undoubtedly highly qualified and technically proficient at command the Wolverine Naval Officer had struck Gaeta as being just a little too condescending in his attitude towards the Colonials, at best tolerating the idea that this was supposed to be a joint operation not just an SLDF mission with a few "Munchkins" along for the ride. Gaeta hated that nickname for his people. True most of the time it wasn't meant in a particularly derogatory fashion, after all even after a few generations of genetic tampering not _everyone_in Wolverine New Circe was tall and athletic, it was just that for some of the New Circers they clearly weren't saying "Munchkin" the same way they called each other "Instants" and "Accidents" only in jest.

In Gaeta's estimation Benedict was one of those Wolverines who when they idly talked about helping the Colonials "fix" their future descendents was quite blatantly pointing out their inferiority to his own people rather than trying to make a joke. The problem was it was very difficult to prove it was pure bigotry and not merely a legitimate (if rude) observation when a dispassionate observer would have to concur with the idea that the gods-damned Wolvies really _were_ physiologically superior to Colonials for the most part. You never saw one of the frakkers wearing glasses, you suspected that one of them thirty years older than you could run you into the ground and to cap it all off _most_ of the bastards didn't even have the common decency to be jerks about it. That at least was _one_positive about Commodore Benedict, you didn't feel petty for disliking the arrogant prick.

Ensign Davis serving as Gaeta's First Officer was more elated than she was nervous about her new job and her peppy enthusiasm was starting to get on his nerves. Still at least she was competent enough, and assigning her the task of keeping the Viper and Raptor crews focused and busy would surely pay dividends performance wise and more importantly keep them out of his hair. The ranking officer among the four fighter-pilots was Lieutenant Tucker Clellan, usually known by his callsign of "Duck", and he was considered one of the top fighter-jocks in the fleet having amassed some forty kills_before_ the Colonial Fleet ran into the Star League in Exile and got their hands on lasers. Since then he had racked up a _lot_more to the point at which not only the first row of tiny raiders painted on his Viper but also most of the second were red, indicating they stood for ten kills apiece.

'Lieutenant Finnegan and Ensign Esrin are away with Raptors 801 and 802 Sir' Davis reported. 'Think they'll find anything?' she asked.

'Probably not but I bet we'll start running into Cylon's after the next series of jumps' Gaeta replied. 'Intelligence thinks we're bound to find them once we're nearer to Kobol, because they'll have figured out we stopped there on the way back to the Colonies, and if we _don't_then I guess we'll have to keep heading towards Cyrannus until we do' he said.

'Commodore Benedict is advising we all try to get some sleep before we get underway again' Davis noted.

'I'll catch a few hours later' Gaeta responded. 'When I do you'll be in charge of the boat so you'd better get some sleep first yourself' he advised. 'That's an order by the way' he added.

'Yes Sir' Davis responded, hoping that she wasn't too excited to get to sleep because she wouldn't want to disobey a direct order. 'I can't wait to start kicking Toaster ass' she said eagerly.

'That's what we're out here for' Gaeta replied. Hopefully after a couple of weeks Davis would calm down enough to grate on his nerves a little less, or else he'd become more tolerant.

Over on _SLS Themis_, or rather currently transferring between that vessel and the Triumph Class clamped to it, practically the only Wolverine on the mission not wildly happy to be there felt his stomach lurch as the direction "down" was in switched by 180 degrees. Although both dropships had been fitted with some gravity decking, this having been stripped from the same vessel which had provided the FTL now carried by the _Themis_, because the two ships were attached the way they were when you moved between them there was a disconcerting point at which the AG Field generated by the decking suddenly changed direction and it was all too easy to fall, or throw up, as a result.

Having fought the Cylons before on Aquaria, and speaking very good Caprican too allowing him to help out as a translator, First Lieutenant Geoff Cale had been quickly assigned to this operation. For most Wolverine mechwarriors this would have been considered a choice mission that they would have given their right arm for but he himself would have much preferred to be back at home with his wife and son rather than out here looking for trouble. For her part Cally was less than pleased herself two weeks ago when his orders arrived to report to an SLDF Raptor heading to the asteroid mine in the New Circe system where Mercury III's modified with "gravity boots" were undergoing testing but at least she was military and understood his lack of choice in the matter. 'Cheer up Cale, it might never happen' Major Thomlinson, the infantry officer commanding the Army's part in this joint operation remarked when they ran into each other.

'It _has_happened Ma'am' Cale replied glumly.

Major Thomlinson chuckled. 'Less than a month after my first was born my husband was sent to the Inner Sphere with the _Rickenbacker_on its last foray back there and he didn't get to see her again until she was talking' she told him. 'Be grateful for small mercies' she advised, 'or rather great jumpdrives provided by small people' she joked.

'They're not small, we're big' Cale pointed out. His wife repeatedly reminded everyone of that when anyone commented on her height and build and he was starting to do it as well now. It was the Colonials that looked more like the average person in the worlds colonised by Terra not the Wolverine's despite the fact they had left there thousands of years more recently.

'True enough' Thomlinson conceded. 'My husband mentioned that being around Munchkins when he visited the City-State reminded him a little of walking around a town in the Magistracy' she said.

'Did he spend much time there?' Cale asked curiously.

'Only a few days, with a little longer in the Niops Association' Thomlinson replied. 'Going to inspect your mech?' she asked.

Cale nodded. 'Particularly the airtight seals' he said, smiling.

'I've been doing the same with my Nighthawk Suit' Thomlinson replied, grinning back. 'But do yourself a favour and make sure to inspect the grav plating they installed too because without that you'll end up jumping into space when you try to walk' she advised semi-seriously. Field testing had ironed out the bugs of using the gravity plating on the soles of a battlemech's feet to allow walking on a low-gravity asteroid, like magnetic boots did on the outside of a ship, but it had taken a lot of trial-and-error. Developing a means to regulate the power which flowed into the plating, allowing a smoother more fluid walking action rather than the initially unsteady jerking motion of the first tests, had made it practical enough for deployment but it was still a far from proven concept in combat terms. 'You know if this works we might end up earning ourselves a couple of lines in the Remembrance' she suggested. 'That might be worth missing a couple of months with your son, query affirmative?'

'Affirmative I guess Major' Cale replied, though not entirely sure.

'Just keep in mind Lieutenant that after we've beaten the Cylons, and added a bit more Munchkin tech to our inventory, we're going to be heading coreward to settle the score with Nicky Kerensky's fan club' Thomlinson told him. 'The weapons and tactics New Circe is developing today are going to beat the Clans and restore the Star League and we're a big part of that' she declared. 'You and me' she said, pointing to Cale then herself as she did so.

Cale nodded, that was surely how his father saw things and it was certainly a nice dream to imagine the battlemechs of the 331st stomping across Strana Mechty or parading down a Paris boulevard.

'If the Clans ever found us they'd kill or sterilise every single person that carried Wolverine DNA including your son Cale' Major Thomlinson reminded him. 'And if the Cylons find New Circe they might just do what they did to your wife's homeworld and nuke it and every person on it to oblivion' she continued. 'That's not going to happen on _our_watch is it Lieutenant, query negative?'

'Negative!' Cale responded with considerably more passion and certainty this time. He'd protect his wife and child if he had to kill every clannerbastard and toaster in the galaxy to keep them safe.

'Good, now stop moping, keep your head straight and in the game' Thomlinson ordered. 'And for Terra's sake have the good sense not to glare at the Commodore when he says something disparaging about the Colonials.'

'You noticed that' Cale replied sheepishly.

'It wasn't exactly subtle Lieutenant, it looked like you were this far from inviting him into a Circe of Equals so you could deck him' the Major replied, holding her thumb and forefinger about a millimetre apart.

Cale looked around making sure nobody could overhear. 'He's a jerk' he stated.

Thomlinson sighed. 'Of _course_ he's a jerk Geoff, he's in the _Navy_' she replied, wondering why that needed explaining.

* * *

**Newgate Mining Outpost & Prison – New Circe System – 3046CE**

Like the majority of the guards in the Newgate Prison Facility the one that marched in the convict had previously been regular army, infantry in his case, and he towered over the prisoner. 'You can wait outside' the warden instructed the guard. 'I think I can handle him if he turns violent' he continued with an amused smile at the very thought.

'As you wish Sir' the guard responded, saluting before he turned and left the warden's office, closing the door behind him.

'Prisoner Sheffield Henry George Binkley' the warden began reading from the document in his hand to the convict now stood in front of his desk. 'As per the terms of an Emergency Wartime Decree of the Lord Protector of the Star League in Exile, countersigned by the Minister of Justice, you are hereby transferred from the Newgate Prison Facility to active duty in the Star League Defence Force' he said. 'Each year of good conduct in SLDF service will be counted as eighteen months off your sentence but any dereliction in duty on your part will result in your immediate return to this facility to serve out the remainder' he continued. 'Prisoner Binkley, do you understand these conditions?' he asked.

'Yes but do I really have much of a choice in this, query negative?' Binkley inquired.

'Negative, not unless you _want_to spend the next two and a half decades out there digging up germanium ore' the warden replied, pointing out through the thick glass of his window to the airless surface of the moon outside before folding up the document. 'Personally I'm hoping you're dumb enough to get sent back here' he told the prisoner. 'You're the only person that ever managed to get the automated drilling equipment running properly.'

'The equipment was fine, the code was just buggy as hell' Binkley replied. 'That's what the Ministry of Justice gets for always choosing the lowest bidder' he observed.

'Just remember that if you get up to your old tricks _now_you might end up in front of a firing squad' the warden warned him. 'Now get out of my sight Binkley' he said, pointing in the direction of the door. 'They've sent a ship to pick you up and take you to wherever the hell it is the navy decides they want you' he said.

Binkley looked out through the window, it wasn't like the warden's vista was much better than the view through the bars of his cell. 'I'll recommend this hotel to all my friends when I get home' he wisecracked. 'Good food, comfortable beds, great views...'

The warden laughed. 'You don't _have_any friends Binkley and even if you did what do you think the chances are the SLDF will be dumb enough to let you go planetside?' he asked rhetorically. 'You'll probably spend the duration of the war sat behind a computer console on one of the navy orbitals, bored out of your skull and wishing you were back here.'

'I don't think the last part is likely' Binkley replied flatly. Even though he had an easier time of it than most prisoners, because his technical skills meant he spent less time outside doing manual work in an EVA suit, Newgate was still far from a holiday camp. A sentence of hard labour from the New Circe Justice System lived up to its name and the ever present danger of a seal blowing out and your blood boiling in your veins wasn't conducive to a pleasant working environment. The moon was large enough to produce sufficient gravity to keep you physically fit, especially if you were humping around tools and equipment much of the time, but it was still a bleak and despair-inducing location.

'There should be a marine outside by now waiting to escort you to the shuttle' the warden told him. 'Don't keep the SLDF waiting' he said, getting back to his paperwork. This release into military custody itself required three forms and a signed and stamped transfer document.

'Three years and I don't even get a farewell party?' Binkley asked.

'You'll be back' the warden replied with a smirk. 'Now scram before I get the guard outside to give you a souvenir bruise or two' he threatened in a manner not nearly idle enough to ignore.

'This Binkley?' an SLDF Marine Sergeant standing in the corridor outside the warden's office asked the guard standing with her.

'Yup' the guard confirmed. 'And he's your responsibility now' he added. 'If you follow the blue line painted on the floor that way it'll lead you back to the dock' he advised. 'I need to get back to work' he added, turning and heading off towards the cell block at the other end of the complex.

Binkley approached the marine 'Going to put me in handcuffs?' he asked, holding out his wrists.

'No' the marine replied.

Binkley momentarily considered asking if he could put _her_ in handcuffs but his good sense and the possibility of being smacked in the mouth, or worse having his clumsy pass rejected with laughter, stopped him. He was also desperately trying to look her in the eyes not the chest so as not to appear a perv, an objective made difficult because not only was she was the first real-live woman he had seen in three years his eye level practically _was_her chest level.

'You're not a Munchkin or one of those Comstar people are you, query negative?' the marine asked curiously, looking down on him. His distinctive convict garb had both the sleeves and pants rolled up several times to fit. Binkley would be under average height if he _was_a Munchkin, by Wolverine standards for his generation he was verging on being a midget, and was skinny with it too.

'Negative on both counts, but I've been learning the Colonial language from this gangster they put in the next cell to mine' Binkley replied. 'So... Sergeant Devlin' he said, reading her name off her uniform, 'how did you get the exciting job of collecting yours truly from out here?' he asked.

'I didn't I'm just here on Newgate escorting the boss, he wanted to talk to the pilot that ferried us here so he sent me to fetch you from the Warden' Devlin replied. 'Your stuff is waiting for you by the airlock' she told him. 'Let's get going.'

'Lead on' Binkley bade her politely, although with the ulterior motive of wanting to check out her ass.

'Orders are to keep you in sight at all times' Devlin replied flatly.

'Great, you can scrub my back in the shower' Binkley found himself saying, instantly regretting it.

Devlin rolled her eyes. 'Move' she instructed him pointing in the direction of the dock, Binkley doing as he was told soon walking beside her. 'At the double!' she ordered, upping the pace.

'I never missed this part of the military' Binkley muttered, trying to match her speed with shorter legs.

Before the Colonials arrived transportation between the planet of New Circe itself and Newgate orbiting one of the planetary gas giants in the outer solar system had been by dropship and had taken a while. Now of course it was only a short intra-system FTL jump between the two, if you were in enough of a hurry to use up some tylium, and it was consequently a Raptor in newly applied SLDF markings which waited for Binkley in the prison facility's shuttle bay.

'I'm sure the Colonials would say there's a God or two watching over you Binkley' a naval officer wearing the rank insignia of a captain observed from where he was leaning back against the Raptor.

Binkley found himself snapping to attention. Partly out of respect but also because you never quite managed to lose the brainwashing instilled by basic training. Binkley would have much rather forgotten the three months hellish months he spent getting screamed at by Army NCO's before transferring to the navy for the remainder of his compulsory 2 years service but it hadn't faded from memory yet. 'Captain Lombard?' he greeted the officer in surprise.

'Well who the hell else do you think would want you?' Lombard replied wryly. 'Or be willing to call in enough favours to get you out of here' he added.

'I thought that was the Lord Protector, what with all the personnel shortages' Binkley responded, frowning.

'You were doing twenty years for _bank robbery_ Binkley, it's not like you were inside for a traffic violation or stealing library books' Lombard pointed out. 'Just because you did it with a computer not a gun doesn't make it any less serious a crime, it's just the fact you _could_do it with a computer that makes you worth the effort' he said. 'As it is I've had to take personal responsibility for you so if you screw up remember that you'll be taking my career down with you' he told him.

'I thought you were still captaining the _Pheidippides_?' Binkley queried. 'That was always a choice assignment for Tech Specialists because of the fancy HPG, what do you need me for?'

'I _am_ still with her' Lombard replied. 'I lost my computer guy to the _Themis_ and a third of my other engineering staff to the team starting to put together the first of the Olympians' he said. 'They gave me first choice on any replacements recalled to active duty and I must have lost leave of my senses because I said I wanted _you_.'

'Why?' Binkley asked, nonplussed.

'Because with everyone else that has your skills already spoken for you're the best of what's left' Lombard told him honestly. 'And anyway you weren't _quite_ as bad a naval crewman as your record says you were, at least not when you served under me on the _Trish Ebon_, you're just not what most people were ever looking for in a New Circe Wolverine.'

'But on the other hand buying clothes in children's sizes always made my paycheques go further' Binkley joked.

'It's your attitude not your height that caused the problem' Lombard told him. 'Now get on the damn ship and we can get back to the New Circe and swap those prison clothes for a uniform which fits' he said before pausing. 'This is an opportunity for you to get back your honour as well as get out of prison' he noted. 'You _do_realise that I hope?' he checked.

Binkley nodded. 'Yes Sir' he confirmed, climbing inside the unfamiliar craft with Lombard then Devlin following, the pilot up front starting to go through the last of the pre-flight checklists.

'Good' Lombard responded as the hatch closed. 'I've got one question though, you said in court that you resorted to crime to pay for your education but I know for a _fact_ that you'd received a scholarship to cover your fees because you tested out so well when the navy process through your application to the university, so what was _that_about?' he wanted to know.

'I still had to eat and pay for my room and I couldn't hold down a part-time job' Binkley replied, putting on his seatbelt. 'Or even get an interview most times because employers usually want to see your service record and mine blew' he added. 'I managed to survive the first two years by working my vacations on a production line at Callaghan Munitions testing circuit boards but that was minimum wage and I couldn't get enough hours a week.'

'So you _robbed a bank_?' Lombard responded incredulously. 'Didn't you think about working your way up to that from shoplifting?'

'You can't shoplift with a computer' Binkley replied. 'Also I thought there was more chance of being caught committing lots of little crimes than just one big one' he continued dejectedly. 'So how long do I get on New Circe?' he asked.

'You get sixteen hours at the shipyard _orbiting_ New Circe then we're meeting the _Pheidippides_at the zenith jump point' Lombard told him. 'We're heading coreward to act as the base for a prospecting mission looking for tylium asteroids' he explained. 'They've got munchkin drives but we're still using a Kearny Fuchida so we have to set out first.'

'Can I at least visit the shipyard bar' Binkley requested hopefully.

'No, I've seen how easily you get drunk and while you're on the station you'll have Sergeant Devlin as a chaperone to stop you deserting, or doing something else that's illegal or contrary to Clan morals' Lombard replied, strapping himself into what was normally the ECO's chair. 'Also for the record because of your knowledge of our computer systems all of the marine detachment on _Pheidippides_are under orders to blow your brains out if boarding by the Cylons ever looks likely.'

'_What?_' Binkley exclaimed.

'You know too much about our systems Binkley, that gets you on the "Destroy Before Capture" list along with the ship's HPG and computers' Lombard explained. 'Normally we'd expect a Wolverine to eat their own bullet in the circumstances but you're not considered a trustworthy member of society by the Top Brass' he noted apologetically.

'I might have been willing to steal but I'd _die_before I'd turn traitor' Binkley responded angrily.

'Good I believe you, now you just have to prove yourself to the Clan again so everyone _else_knows that' Lombard told him as the hanger depressurised and the massive airlock door in the roof began to open. 'Can we get a softer landing on the other end' he requested of the pilot.

'It's not like I do it _deliberately_, I never learned to fly one of these things the normal way I just had the knowledge how to control one downloaded into my head and those memories came from a crappy pilot' the woman in SLDF fatigues sitting up front defended herself.

'Say what?' Binkley exclaimed, staring at the back of her helmet as the Raptor lifted off.

Lombard grinned. 'Binkley meet our taxi driver for today, Flying Officer Sharon Valerii' he introduced them.

'Call me Athena' the Number Eight Cylon instructed Binkley as the Raptor headed upwards. 'I needed a callsign and a friend suggested it.'

'Hi' Binkley greeted the Cylon awkwardly. 'They trust it with a jump-capable boat?' he asked in surprise.

'You've got to show trust to earn loyalty Binkley, think about how that applies to our situation too' Lombard replied meaningfully.

'And if I _did_decide to fly off towards the nearest basestar I'd be leaving my daughter behind' Sharon observed. 'And I'm not an "it" jailbird' she added curtly.

'I'm surprised they haven't got you at the computer science labs at the university' Binkley stated. 'I'll bet most of my old professors there would love...'

'To take me apart?' Sharon interrupted. 'Vivisect me?'

'I was going to say ask you about a million questions' Binkley told her.

'Already told everything I know, which isn't as much as you might think' Sharon replied. 'Preparing for intra-system FTL Jump to New Circe Orbit' she announced. 'If you suffer from TDS hold onto your lunch back there' she advised, activating the Raptor's jumpdrive now they were far enough from the Newgate dome not to cause any damage.

'Welcome back to the SLDF Navy, Specialist Binkley' Lombard addressed him. 'You'll find that a few things have changed since you've been away' he added with a smile.

* * *

**_Note from the Author:_**

_The 35 ton Avar Light Omnifighter was introduced by the Clans in 2878 so it's not exactly ultra-modern but it's still going to be better for dogfighting raiders than the Visigoth or Kirghiz. It's got very good acceleration but suffers from a small fuel tank in its original design, something that can be remedied in this situation by the fact that when fighting Cylons it doesn't have to carry as much heavy armament (no bulky large-calibre autocannon or PPC's) and can therefore be fitted with a larger fuel tank for greater endurance. Louanne "Kat" Katraine was a good pilot, hence her getting the job as Test Pilot for the prototype Avar when Kara Thrace couldn't do it (Starbuck's issue with Neurohelmets has been mentioned before). His stint as Commander of Pegasus saw Lee Adama put on a lot of weight, I couldn't resist having some fun with that!_

_The Titan Class masses 12,000 tons with another 1300 tons worth of Colonial FTL tacked on. The Triumph meanwhile comes in at 5600, less than half the mass of the Titan hauling it along which means the larger ship can carry her, albeit with a reduction in jump-range and fuel efficiency and an increase in wear-and-tear on the FTL. By the time she gets back to New Circe the jumpdrive on Themis will require a major overhaul. Felix Gaeta gets a promotion and his first ship, true it's the Thera Sita a freighter along for the ride to haul spares and ammo, but it's his first command. His first officer is Ensign Davis with Tucker Clellan as lead fighter pilot. The Magistracy of Canopus is a large periphery state on the outskirts of the Inner Sphere. McEvedy's Folly, the former and temporary homeworld of the Wolverines lies between the Magistracy and The Marian Hegemony. Another "nearby" periphery state is the highly advanced Niops Association where I could see the Wolverine's trading for high-tech goods they'd have to go deeper into the Inner Sphere for otherwise._

_The Prison Facility on the Newgate Moon is where New Circe sends criminals who have committed serious crimes. The prison iself was placed next to the best deposits of Germanium (a vital ingredient of a Kearny-Fuchida Jumpdrive) in the system. Called back to the colours (from prison) Specialist Binkley is a rather atypical Wolverine but he's very good with computers. He was drafted aged 18 like all New Circe citizens and put through basic training after which he was sent to the navy because the army really didn't want him. Sharon "Athena" Valerii recently made it through her own three months of basic training and is now a glorified in-system taxi-driver (until they can decide what else useful they can do with her)._


End file.
